Rose looked at her mother.
Emma closed the ledger.
“I hate her.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I know.”
Rose smiled.
“What will you do?”
Emma thought.
“Ask the workers.”
“That sounds reasonable.”
“Lena would be disappointed.”
“Why?”
“She preferred being right alone.”
Rose laughed.
Within a week, Emma called a meeting.
Not in an office.
At the bakery’s longest worktable.
Twelve employees.
Rose.
Emma.
Two people from the family.
The business accountant.
Everyone expected a speech.
Emma had prepared one.
Then abandoned it.
She placed Lena’s ledger on the table.
“She told us not to turn the bakery into a museum.”
One employee whispered, “That sounds like her.”
Emma nodded.
“I don’t know how to run this business.”
A few people looked surprised.
“I know the family history.”
“I know bread.”
“I know people.”
“But I do not know production scheduling or wholesale accounts or how many sacks of flour disappear during Christmas week.”
One of the senior bakers said, “Too many.”
“Exactly.”
A little laughter loosened the room.
Emma continued.
“Lena left forty percent of her ownership to the employee trust.”
“She left another portion to charitable food programs.”
“The rest came to me.”
“I’m willing to hold it temporarily.”
“But I do not want this bakery surviving because everyone is afraid to change something Lena used to do.”
A young baker asked:
“Even recipes?”
Emma pointed.
“Careful.”
More laughter.
Then:
“Recipes can change if you prove the new version is better.”
The oldest employee frowned.
“Lena would haunt us.”
“She already is.”
Emma touched the ledger.
Then she looked around.
“What do you need?”
Silence.
People were unaccustomed to being asked.
The production manager finally said:
“Loading area.”
“Too small.”
Another:
“Night shift needs another mixer.”
Another:
“The old oven is sentimental nonsense.”
Three people gasped.
Emma stared.
The speaker became nervous.
Then Emma said:
“You mean the iron range from Bozeman?”
“Yes.”
“That Lena bought when she first moved here?”
“Yes.”
“That has burned unevenly since before you were born?”
“Yes.”
Emma sighed.
“Remove it.”
The oldest employee whispered:
“Wow.”
Emma said:
“She told me not to build a museum.”
The changes began.
Not all at once.
A new loading door.
Better storage.
The ancient range retired and placed in the front bakery—not as a sacred object, simply as part of the story.
They kept one original worktable because it remained useful.
The business expanded wholesale carefully.
Rose became increasingly involved.
Not because she loved bread as Lena had.
She loved systems.
Inventory.
Distribution.
Employees.
Numbers.