The aroma of fresh-baked goods wafted through the air as she stepped into the cozy bakery. The bell above the door chimed, announcing her arrival. "She's here!" someone called out from the back. The baker, a stout woman with flour-dusted apron, bustled out from the kitchen, a tray of muffins balanced in her hand. "Sally! Got the muffins for the bake sale." Sally held up a small card. "I couldn't make it this morning, but Dan dropped this off." The baker nodded, reading the note. "Oh, nevermind, I think I have enough." "Something's on your mind. Spill." The baker hesitated, then pulled a box from behind the counter. "Mary's sewing circle found this box of old family recipes buried in the attic. They wanted me to open it in her honor." "What's inside?" "I'm not sure. They said I could bake the cake. If, uh, I wanted to." "You? Bake someone *else's* cake? I can't picture it." The baker grinned, a little embarrassed. "Well, it sways me this time. There's no closing agreement on the cake shop yet and I could use some work when Dan leaves." Sally laughed, reaching for the box. "I'm sure there'll be no harm letting you try."