Chapter 4

Four

MARIA

L a Petite bakery is my sanctuary, even at five in the morning when the lights are barely on, the ovens are preheating, and I'm entering a few receipts into spreadsheets that I didn't get to yesterday. I finish entering the last of the numbers, and pause to look up at the cork board above my desk. Originally I used it to keep track of notes to myself, but somewhere along the way it turned into more of a vision board. There's a neon pink sticky note from Lia with a reminder to breathe, a handwritten recipe from my grandmother that inspired me to bake my first cookie, and the first dollar from my first sale. Then there are the dreams, a house with a white picket fence, a dog snuggled up in a pile of fluffy purple blankets on a couch, and a printed-out review from the Online Glacier Bay Newspaper announcing the top places to eat in Glacier Bay.

Partially hidden by the article is a crumpled piece of paper I've tried to throw away at least a hundred times. When I first opened the bakery, customers asked me where my awards were. Where my accolades and reviews were to prove my baking was good enough for them. One lady even said her pie was better because she'd won a blue ribbon, and I never had. I entered the competition to get a ribbon, and wound up with that scorecard on my office wall instead.

"Please tell me you aren't looking at that paper again."

My cousin Isabella stands outside my office, tying her apron around her waist. I completely missed her entrance as I relived the day of the fall festival.

"Not anymore." I leave my office and grab my own apron so I won't get as much flour on my pink shirt that reads I bake because punching people is frowned upon with a cute cartoon drawing of a cupcake. My parents had gifted me the shirt for Christmas and I'd immediately added it to my collection.

Isabella retrieves the chocolate chip cookie dough I made yesterday from the fridge. Meanwhile, I start on the bread portion of the menu so the dough will have time to rise. Pulling out the bowls and things I need to make the fresh loaves I offer. Bread isn't the biggest seller at the bakery, but I have loyal customers who buy it regularly so I won't take it off the menu.

"You need to throw that review away," Isabella tells me. "Put up the good reviews you have."

I sigh as I measure out the ingredients into my bowl. "It's not just any review Isa. It's the scorecard from that day. I don't have a blue ribbon for the bakery because of it."

She finishes filling the first tray with the pre-measured dough balls and moves onto filling the second tray.

"Well blue ribbons don't pay your bills, and it's messing with your aura."

"And what about your aura?" I ask her.

"Oh it's good. My horoscope promised I'd have a sparkling day today if I avoid negativity."

"Well I can't argue with that," I tell her. "I think we'd all be much happier without negativity."

We work together moving through the regular menu of items and at some point Isa turns on music and we belt out the song lyrics together. When seven o'clock rolls around, I have one round of bread out, and the cupcakes have sat in the chiller long enough they are ready to be frosted. The radio DJ pauses songs to remind people that they need to submit their ideas for naming the hockey team's new machine.

"You should decorate the cupcakes for that," Isa suggests.

"You think?" I ask, unsure. "We have a lot of hockey menu items already."

Between the Left Wing lemon items to use up the lemons, the Right Wing Raspberry Tarts, the Center Cranberry Muffins, and so on, half the bakery menu has been renamed to include something hockey.

"Lean in," she says. "Besides people like options."

"I don't have time to make a lot of flavors before opening."

"Frost them differently?" She suggests."Just pick two for today, if it's popular, pick two different ones for tomorrow."

I look at the buttercream frosting and take a moment to look up the voting site the radio mentioned. The Glacier-nator image is an ice monster-looking thing, while the Ice Bear is a fierce polar bear very similar to the team's mascot. Ideas form for how to make themed cupcakes without much difficulty. The other names on the list would take more effort and time. I pull out some molds I use for birthday cake orders.

Five minutes to opening I have half a tray filled with vanilla cupcakes I'd transformed into cute polar bears using white marshmallow frosting with coconut flakes and chocolate for the nose and eyes. The other half of the tray is filled with chocolate cupcakes topped with white mint flavored frosting. I'd then melted clear mint hard candy pieces into a sheet, and when it had cooled, broke it into pieces that I stuck into the frosting so each cupcake had a few pieces poking out. The technique was similar to one I used for an ice princess-themed party my aunt had thrown for her five-year-old granddaughter last year.

Isabella brings out the last tray of blueberry muffins for the front display, and we are ready for opening. She sets the muffins down, and looks around. She's worked here long enough now that I can see her doing the quick double-check to make sure everything is in place. Bringing her in to work with me was one of the best decisions I've made since opening. Her eyes stop on the hockey treats display and I know what she is thinking even before she says it.

"There's no lemon bars," Isa says, turning to go to the back and get them.

"It's okay Isa. They're not out because I didn't make them."

"Is it because of the cupcakes?"

"No. I just didn't feel like making them today."

She looks at me with concern. "Are you feeling sick? Do you need to go home?"

Shaking my head, I stop her as I hold up my hand. "I'm fine. I've just decided it's time I actually stick to promises I've made."

"Oh..." She drags out the word. "I see. This is because of Lou."

"Yes and no, but speaking of him, I'm serious. He gets nothing."

She nods her head and the expression on her face tells me she isn't taking my words seriously.

"I'm serious Isa."

"Serious, like you want tacos but pizza's good?" she asks. "Or serious, like that time Bianca put glue on her hair because she ran out of hairspray?"

"Break out the industrial glue level of seriousness."

Her eyes go wide and she nods. "Yeah, okay. He won't get so much as a crumb out of me. What are you going to do about your friends?"

Letting out a deep breath I shrug. "I'll tell Lia and Nate. At least Hannah's moved."

"Are you ever going to try and talk to him about it?" She asks me.

"There's no point Isa. It won't change the past."

"Well let me know when he's suffered enough for his deeds, meanwhile I'm going to invest in glue."

She cackles, and I laugh as I flip the sign from closed to open. As soon as the door opens customers are at the door and I smile in greeting. My bakery is here to stay and there's no way I'm going to let Lou stop me.

The morning stays busy, and Isabella and I work well together to bring smiles to customer's faces. The cupcakes are a hit and people are taking pictures and buying one of each. It's easily tripled my normal cupcake sales for the morning rush as most people pick it up for an afternoon treat. By the time Nate makes it through the doors, he's signed at least five things for people and taken at least as many selfies. The crowd thins, but it won't stay that way for long as soon as people realize that he's here.

He smiles when he sees me and asks, "Think you could fit in making a cake for an Engagement Party?"

I grin and come around the counter to hug him. "Absolutely. When is the party?"

"We have a game break just after New Year's."

"Wonderful." I tell him. "I'll text Lia and we can schedule a cake tasting to go over flavors and design."

His shoulders relax. "Any problem if Penelope comes?"

"I already planned on Penelope coming." I move back around the counter.

Isa's eyes might as well have hearts in them as she stares up at him. "If I ever end up with a man half as good as you are with your fiancé and daughter I'll be lucky."

A touch of pink appears high on his neck and he clears his throat before telling her. "I'm sure you'll find them."

"The regular?" I ask him to change the subject, pointing toward a bacon and egg stuffed croissant.

He nods, "And a lemon bar for Lou, I owe him one."

I freeze.

Isa saves me. "We're all out today. Ran out of lemons."

Nate frowns, and I notice his eyes glance behind me toward the back of the bakery. "Any chance you'll be making them later?"

I shake my head. "Sorry. Cupcakes are taking a priority today." I point to the tray of cupcakes I'd decorated earlier. Half of them have already sold this morning, and as soon as I can I'll be decorating more.

Nate shifts his focus to the cupcakes, and to my surprise says, "I'll take the rest. The team will love them."

"What?" I ask him, my eyes wide. I shouldn't be surprised, he's bought for the team before, and even though the arena puts in orders directly now, he still bought extra for them yesterday. He'd said something about a special practice. It should have been another week at least before he bought for them again.

Isa came to my rescue and started to box up the cupcakes. Nate followed her to the register, and I knew I had to put my foot down about giving any to Lou.

"Nate."

He hands Isa his card then looks at me.

"Lou can't have one."

He smiles, and takes his card back from Isa before signing the receipt. "I know."

I cross my arms. "I mean it, Nate."

"Maria, if you were serious?—"

"If he gets any, I won't make your wedding cake."

That makes the smile disappear from his face. "Maria."

"Not a crumb, and don't think that he can have any of the cake at your party either. So figure out who's watching it all night."

Nate's pulling out his phone as I walk towards the doors to the back of the bakery, I stop in my tracks. Right there, sitting by the light switches I flipped on when I came in this morning are the bags of lemons Lou gave me yesterday. When I came in this morning I'd put them all on the side counter so my hands would be free. They're sitting out in the open, completely visible. I don't turn back to look at Nate, I have cupcakes to decorate.