“Libbie was a bright light and just had this magnetism where people were instantly drawn to her,” Nichols explains. “Losing her was the most difficult point of my life, and I needed to have something to focus on, to get me through the day.”

In May 2006, she opened the bakery’s doors and has been giving back a portion of its profits ever since. “We had so many people help us throughout Libbie’s life, both financially and emotionally, that I definitely feel like I need to pay it forward,” Nichols explains. In fact, all proceeds from the bakery’s homemade hot pretzels (one of Libbie’s comfort foods after each chemo treatment) and from two kinds of cookies (the “I love you” cookies and the balloon-shaped cookies depicting some of Becky and Libbie’s favorite sayings) go to the Loving Libbie Foundation, which benefits children with cancer.

Other details remind customers that the bakery serves a higher purpose: The children’s menu features the “Libbie” (a turkey-and-cheese sandwich with chips, fruit, and a drink — Nichols’s daughter’s favorite lunch) and the “Buster” (a peanut-butter-and-strawberry-jelly sandwich with chips, fruit, and a drink — Nichols’s son’s favorite lunch); the bakery team dons pale pink chefs’ coats and packages to-go orders in rose-colored boxes in honor of Libbie’s favorite color.

Adorned with dainty crystal chandeliers and whimsically mismatched wooden chairs, the feminine, shabby-chic interior of the bakery is a natural habitat for ladies to lunch over juicy gossip and for little girls to burst in after school for sprinkled cupcakes. No doubt, this is a girly-girl place — Nichols concedes that 80 to 90 percent of her customers are women — but several menu options, including meatloaf, classic Rueben sandwiches, and pan-fried pork chops, have quite a following from the Y-chromosome crowd. She caters, too, and several local businesses can’t get enough of her crustless quiches, crab cakes, and buttermilk bars. The most popular menu items, the chicken salad sandwich and the fried-green-tomato-and-bacon grilled cheese, are staples on the bakery’s gilded menu; polished off with a lemon bar or a Chocolate Painkiller cookie, it’s no low-calorie affair — and that’s just the way Nichols likes it. “I don’t know how many calories are in most of these meals,” she says with a shrug. “My goal is to nourish the soul; the whole premise for the bakery is about making life more comfortable.”

Nichols has had several opportunities to see her game plan in action. For starters, she prepares individual servings of homemade chicken and dumplings, mini-meatloafs, macaroni and cheese, and mashed potatoes for kids being treated at the Dell Children’s Hospital’s Pediatric Hematology and Oncology Clinic, and donates food to the hospital’s “No More Chemo” parties for kids; every dish that goes to the hospital is signed “Love, Libbie.”

Many customers who come through the bakery doors already know Libbie’s story and want to contribute to the cause, and local cancer survivors congregate at the bakery for meetings. And then there are the chance meetings where Nichols has the opportunity to see the healing power of her food. On one occasion, a woman accompanied by her mother stopped by the bakery on her way to chemotherapy and picked up a package of macaroni and cheese to go. The daughter didn’t have an appetite then, so Nichols was unsure of whether she enjoyed the dish. But weeks later, the mother stopped back at the bakery to pick up another to-go order of the macaroni and cheese; since then, she has come by regularly, as the pasta has become one of her daughter’s favorite comfort foods.

“If I’ve made someone’s life better even for a few minutes, then that makes me feel better,” Nichols says. “We all have gifts that can help other people, and mine is cooking.” Armed with a staff of chefs and pastry makers, Nichols and her gift are quickly garnering new clientele while retaining some very loyal regulars. In fact, she often sees Libbie’s doctors and nurses, who drop by for lunch. “When one of the doctors comes in here, it’s like seeing a cousin or an aunt,” Nichols explains. “That’s why running this bakery is very therapeutic for me — it’s like seeing family every day.”

Those who stop by for a hot sandwich or flaky pastry no doubt feel the same way. Nichols’s warm smile and never-met-a-stranger personality greet every customer who steps into the charming one-room bakery. “People tell me that they feel like they’re sitting at their mom’s kitchen counter, which I think is the biggest compliment,” she says.

But it’s about much more than just food; Nichols views her work as one of her life’s purposes. “This bakery is a matter of survival for me and how I get through every day,” she says. “If I can give back by feeding people, then that’s empowering.”