The bakery was abuzz with the morning rush. The crisp air outside contrasted the warm, fragrant interior of the shop. The glass counter displayed an array of pastries, each a work of art in its own right. "The usual, Mrs. Emerson?" The baker, a young woman with flour-dusted arms, greeted a regular customer with a warm smile. "Yes, dear, but only one today. My grandson is visiting, so I'm sure he'll want to try one of your delicious treats." The elderly woman's eyes sparkled with excitement at the thought of spending time with her family. "Well, we have some new flavors today. How about a raspberry danish? They're fresh out of the oven." The baker gestured towards the display, her eyes shining with pride. "Oh, that sounds lovely! Eric always did have a sweet tooth." Mrs. Emerson's voice carried a hint of nostalgia as she recalled memories of her grandson. As the baker wrapped up the pastry, the bell above the door chimed, signaling the arrival of a new customer. A young man entered, his eyes immediately landing on the elderly woman with a smile of recognition. "Grandma!"