Chapter 10

** Bella-Rose POV**

Morning came too soon for my liking. I squeeze my eyes shut, craving the blissful retreat of heavy sleep again. Alas, once my eyes opened, my brain started reciting the to-do chores as if it's my secretary. Some people can micro-manage their time so well that they make use of seconds too, you know the ones who accomplish a ton of work and still look like a breeze, the ones who juggle two jobs and still have time to party, the ones...ya, you got my point...well, I'm not one of them.

I need time for everything. I couldn't do things in minutes like some. That's why I didn't dare think of applying for a job as a pastry chef in some restaurant or a hotel. I get panicked when I'm clustered with work. That kind of work environment is not for me, and anyways there are dime-a-dozen pastry chefs with culinary courses under their belt in Atlanta. Ya, don't shoot me, I'm getting to the point.

My point here is... I lack the confidence that it takes to run for that kind of job. Hence, I'm at Nana’s. But nowadays I feel like I could be more.

Nana's is good, Sweet Gum Tree is our legacy, I get it, but...it's not me, it's more like Nana's dream. It's hers. Every recipe, every table...hell! Even the wallpaper is to her liking. I'm just an employee there. It was nice when I was a teenager, but now that I'm a grown-up, I want something more for myself. Waiting for Nana to abdicate her throne and give me the keys is like waiting for a shooting star.
Who knows when it will happen? By the time it gets to that, I may be a middle-aged woman with kids to focus on. Uhh... going too far ahead? Ok, retreat. Point-I have some ideas, which I want to do on my own, not relying on some legacy.

I want to approach her and say- I have the right of secession as human rights say, and I want to exercise it- there! Chew on it. If only I could do it. I fear nana will take it to her heart. You know, what with all the bakeries being in the family, women passing down to their daughters, blah...blah...blah. In short, she will freak out. A noise escaped from me that was too visceral to call it a snarl, why is this so difficult!

Although the simplest solution to any problem is most often the correct one—that's what's known as Occam's Razor—in this particular case, it happens to be wrong. I couldn't inform her of my desires, I don't want to hurt her feelings, that's why here I'm, waking at 4 o'clock to knead the dough and make some morning puff pastries and croissants for our breakfast crowd.

Generally, I work through early in the morning from 4-8 at my station in the kitchen. We have two chefs-including me. After that, Charlie gets to take a break and arrive in the evening, while my slave-driver makes use of me at the front taking orders and waiting tables along with Jackie-who rotates shifts with Pat (ya...naive me wanted to please nana at the age of 17, with my working skills so that she won't regret passing down the bakery and it kind of stuck. Talk about stomping on your own feet).

Once, the crowd dwindles, I make the prep for the evening so that when Charlie comes to take over, everything is ready and doesn't take much time. By the time my shift ends, it would be 3 pm and my body would be so battered from work that all I want to do is crawl back into my bed.

This is my daily routine on a normal day when nana is not angry with me. Do you want to know what happens when nana is angry with me?

**Long ago, when the human being is knowing the meaning of evolution-**

There was a time, in the good old days, when people thought the iPhone is the new messiah. When people look at you as if you're God's descendant if you have an iPhone. The days when 'Siri' and 'Alexa' are newborn babies to the world with their fascinating 'gu-gu', 'ga-ga' sounds and listening to their voices saying- 'sorry, I don't understand. Do you mean by this?', was the favorite pastime for many.

Those were the days...until every living being converted into an iPhone carrier-except nana.

So, when my nana heard for the first time 'Siri' replying to something I asked, she enquired about the weird voice that is coming out of my new iPhone. Obviously, as any good granddaughter, I replied-"it was a lost soul who took shelter in my phone nana. She helps me with the things when I ask her".

The very next day, my nana took me to a Chinese shaman, and boy was she a complete package! Dressed in a costume with all that makeup, and don't forget the voodoo dolls and pins (shivering internally). Poor thing, she tried to milk this situation until I chimed about some US laws (some Mumbo-jumbo cooked up at the spot) and threw in for good measure that my brother is a lawyer (gotta use it sometimes), in between of my nana's shushing. Suffice it to say, my nana was rejected as a client and restrained from the premises...forever.

Alas, my nana came to know about the 'lost soul' from one of her many boyfriends (I don't know his number, but you are free to ask here... I dare you) and what happened next was as big as a comet slamming into the planet or a galactic cataclysm. Or close to it. She... she... (Suspenseful music plays) stopped talking to me. For 2 weeks.

This is not the first time she used that tactic. And for not just me. Good old dad was always her favorite for a reason. Once upon a time...

**The Mesozoic Era- some 250 or so million years ago-**

Dad fell in love with mom at first sight. He pursued her relentlessly until she took pity on him. Both were very happy and decided to make their relationship official (gotta set an example for me).
It was the day when dad introduced mom to nana-

It was a rainy day. The rain was pouring down, hard and remitting, amidst the thunderclaps, that people thought a hurricane is around the corner. The wind was howling through the windows making those whistling sounds. And there, my then slimmer-mom stood before nana, holding dad's hand.

Nana's gaze landed on their clasped hands...her eyes narrowed exponentially ...she mentally loaded a gun in her mind...and that was the day my mom’s name was added to the dictionary as a synonym to target. Unbeknownst to them, the sound of lightning striking can be heard in the background.

Do you know, when you introduce a new species of birds to the indigenous species in a habitat, there is bound to be some type of conflict? That conflict landed on dad. Nana refused to acknowledge mom. No one is good enough for my son; nana's famous dialogue those days.

Dad being dad, didn't give two pence about how his mother feels. So... nana took out the big guns. SHE STOPPED TALKING TO HIM. It took dad a year, A YEAR, to convince nana. Of course, baby Scott also helped- ya, dad was busy.

However, Nana still clashed with mom. It was amazing how the farcical antipathy was still there between them. Well, everyone has their own faults. At least she stopped behaving like mom was not standing in front of her. That's that. Now...they have a raving match, which if heard by any fisherman's wife they would want to take lessons from them.

** Present-day-**

Fewer than five hours had passed into my shift, and I was already longing for the bed in my bedroom. I need to distract my thoughts from sleep. Alas, everyone seems to be busy and nana avoiding me is not helping a bit. That's it! I have to do something about this.