Partly cloudy

Music and dancing lit the Molinas' Bakeries until midnight. For the first time ever, the bakeries were closed on Monday. No specials. No OPEN sign. Everyone enjoyed a day long holiday, with pay. Linda M. and her staff had planned ahead, orders were baked, boxed and bundled off to hungry sandwich lovers and scone maniacs on Friday and Saturday.

The mother and daughter Molinas kicked in a new tradition: Doing nothing. Like most habits, it wasn't easy for a baker to be in bed until after the sun rose. Linda M. calmed the urge, looked at her daughter who'd crawled in beside her and snuggled up to the warm brown face. Shine smiled, her eyes never blinked.

"Bakers do their best work in the dark." It was a Molina family joke. Dumpling rolled her eyes when she thought of the many meanings given the new information she'd become privy to. It wasn't difficult for her to be in bed until after the sun rose, and in fact it was one of her favorite times to be in bed. Stan Costa, musician, made it even easier.

"Does this tickle," long strong fingers crept under Dumpling's loose blue Aloha shirt, her nightie. Finding a funny bone wasn't difficult.

"Don't get me started," she teased, "or start something you can't finish." It was well into morning, the light through the eyelet curtain was butter yellow. Clouds had moved in after midnight. It was partly cloudy, but the sun was warming the day. Stan did have a day job, and it started an hour ago. He didn't have a day off with pay.

He was a worker bee, a guy who made money by the hour and he counted. "You're lucky. This job will have to continue tonight." Stan had his hands out from under Dumpling's shirt, and his pinkie was hooked for a promise. "Deal?"

"Oh, I've got a pretty tight schedule. Opportunities knocking left and right."

"I'll make it worth your while. Dinner and a movie, and pineapple upside cake for dessert with a side of musician. I'll cook. You choose the movie. You can help me make the cake." Two nights in a row would be unusual for Dumpling and Stan. They kept plenty of space between 'em and it worked for them. Still ... changing your mind about something seemed to be the talisman of the times. Dumpling stuck out her right pinkie, Stan hooked his with hers and pulled.

"Deal," they both said. After a long and very satisfying good-bye kiss Stan Costa had his jeans belted, clean shirt, socks and baseball cap in place. His boots were outside, and his Harley waited for his touch. Stan secured the cover for the side-car. The bass was safe with Dumpling.

Dumpling's phone rang as soon as the door closed behind him.