A Church You Could Bear, begins with Lark and the nar­ra­tor, Rainy, slip­ping out of the house ear­ly in the morn­ing, leav­ing Kel­lan upstairs, lost in his own world. Lark, ever thought­ful, gath­ers an arm­ful of lilacs and a maple bough, cre­at­ing a beau­ti­ful arrange­ment to accom­pa­ny their trip to Labrino’s. As the morn­ing light breaks through, Lark reas­sures Rainy, com­fort­ing him with the reminder that lis­ten­ing to a friend, even when bur­dened with feel­ings of fail­ure, is an act of true friend­ship. Togeth­er, they adorn the fence with the flow­ers, a sim­ple yet pro­found ges­ture that brings a sense of peace, before turn­ing their atten­tion to a beloved local busi­ness, Bread.

Bread, owned by Maudie Antoinette, began as a small bak­ery with domed peas­ant loaves that soon became a sta­ple in the com­mu­ni­ty. The secret recipe of these loaves, passed down from a van­ished Span­ish bak­er, added an ele­ment of mys­tery and nos­tal­gia to Maudie’s craft. With­in a year, Lark had formed a close bond with Maudie, bond­ing over their shared love of books and strik­ing a barter arrange­ment with a local dis­tiller. Their friend­ship blos­somed into the cre­ation of a book nook with­in the bak­ery, which, over time, grew into a full-fledged book­shelf-lined shop. Bread trans­formed into more than just a bakery—it became a warm, wel­com­ing place for the com­mu­ni­ty to gath­er and share sto­ries, where the aro­ma of fresh-baked bread was paired with the joy of lit­er­a­ture.

As Lark and Rainy unpack books on the shelves, the shop begins to fill with the hum of activ­i­ty. A few reg­u­lars stop by, pri­mar­i­ly to pur­chase Maudie’s renowned bread and pas­tries, but the shop also attracts curi­ous passers­by. An old man, drawn in by the scent of bread and the allure of the books, enters, adding an air of delight to the shop’s atmos­phere. His eyes scan the shelves with inter­est before he inquires about the rare book under the counter—Molly Thorn. When Lark hes­i­tant­ly reveals the book, the old man is clear­ly moved, his desire to pur­chase it appar­ent. How­ev­er, Lark, pro­tec­tive of its spe­cial sig­nif­i­cance, hes­i­tates, and the man promis­es to return anoth­er day, leav­ing behind an unspo­ken sense of antic­i­pa­tion.

As Lark’s birth­day approach­es, Rainy’s thoughts shift from his ear­li­er grief to a grow­ing sense of antic­i­pa­tion for the upcom­ing cel­e­bra­tion. Kel­lan, always in his own world, busi­ly orga­nizes dec­o­ra­tions while Rainy reach­es out to friends to arrange food and drinks. When the night of the cel­e­bra­tion arrives, the house fills with laugh­ter, music, and the warmth of com­mu­ni­ty, rem­i­nis­cent of a gath­er­ing with­out the con­straints of for­mal­i­ty. The atmos­phere is light, with no pres­sure to meet anyone’s expec­ta­tions, just an hon­est cel­e­bra­tion of life and friend­ship. The old man, a guest at the gath­er­ing, becomes part of the warm ambiance, shar­ing whiskey and offer­ing thought­ful reflec­tions on life, his words imbued with wis­dom and appre­ci­a­tion for the beau­ty of the evening.

As the cel­e­bra­tion con­tin­ues, Rainy begins to feel the absence of Kel­lan, his frus­tra­tion mount­ing. He search­es for Kel­lan, who, as always, seems with­drawn, but even­tu­al­ly, they recon­nect, and Rainy returns to the live­ly gath­er­ing. The night is filled with shared sto­ries and good cheer, a reminder of the com­mu­ni­ty’s resilience in the face of life’s chal­lenges. As the par­ty winds down, Lark and Rainy find com­fort in each other’s pres­ence, the warmth of their embrace offer­ing a qui­et solace amidst the chaos. They talk about the night’s mer­ry moments and dream togeth­er of a future filled with the chil­dren they nev­er had, nam­ing imag­i­nary sons and daugh­ters in a ten­der exchange. The night slips away, leav­ing behind a sense of hope, con­nec­tion, and the soft glow of shared dreams.