Zoe :: Sarah’s Bakery :: October 2005
Baking had to be one of the best professions that existed, in my own, very biased opinion.
Of course, I didn’t actually do the baking here, I just served up cookies and cakes for the masses to enjoy. But that’s not to say I didn’t dream about it.
The summer between high school and college was so uneventful that I was scouring the streets every day for help wanted signs in obscure windows of shops. I’d been pretty unsuccessful at first, but Sarah’s drew me in.
Love at first peanut butter cookie.
I wasn’t exaggerating, either. I could eat ten of them, easy. Probably easier than I’d like to be able to. But I did walk to work, so I always factored that in for five cookies.
I wasn’t exactly a nutritionist, though.
Summer came and went, and I stuck with the job on weekends home from school. My boyfriend couldn’t see what I was raving about. I always shrugged my shoulders and told him he didn’t understand.
“Because baking is so personal and girlie,” I’d tell him. “And you want none of that.”
“Yeah,” he’d say. “Pretty much.”
Sarah had promoted me to decorating wedding cakes in mid-September. I was in heaven. Crazily nervous, though. Almost to the point where it was unhealthy. I spent my nights worrying about icing roses and placement of little bride and groom ornaments that I always found tacky. But hey, if they made the people happy--
And then, my boyfriend actually came by and tried a few things I’d just baked. I think it was just to get me to shut up about lemon meringues and chocolate chips for a while and talk about something else.
But I always had my ideas.
Sarah was out of town for the weekend and I was in charge of the place, all on my own. I was shocked to see she had that much confidence in me, considering my considerable past. What with the burning things, the eating things all the time, the unbelievable trouble with the rolling pin techniques.
I had a feeling she knew it was going to be slow. There was some sort of festival going on in town, and the bakery-needy were pretty much absent.
I did have four customers, though. All pretty simple.
A guy for two dozen raisin cookies that I despised.
An older woman for just one savory treat. I recommended the German chocolate cake and she nearly got tears in her eyes as she ate.
A younger woman who came to change the date for her wedding cake order. Pam and Roy. P and R. Both of those names rhymed with a lot of things.
Finally, a guy that came in with his girlfriend.
“Jim, I can’t believe you know about this place!” the girl squealed, dragging him a little by the hand. “Oh, boy. They have them today.”
“Hello,” I said cheerfully, as if there were any other way to say it. “How are you two doing today?”
“Good. Even better when I get some coconut macaroons, I hope,” the girl said excitedly.
“Sure thing,” I said. “How many?”
She looked to Jim. “I dunno. What do you think? Do you think you’ll like them?”
“I haven’t met a sweet I didn’t like. Go for it. A dozen,” he smiled at her. “No, wait. A baker’s dozen.”
I laughed and plopped the cookies into a bag.
“I don’t even want to wait!” the girl exclaimed, breaking a cookie in half and handing one to Jim.
He took a bite and chewed thoughtfully.
“The verdict?” I asked, looking up from my wedding cake sketch.
He looked at his girlfriend with a frown. “They’re horrible, Katy. Ugh. I can’t even swallow. Let’s leave. Wow, I can’t even believe you like these.”
Katy stared at him in shock, like she was devastated. Slowly, Jim’s lips spread into a smile and his voice into a laugh.
“If there were ever a prize for being the most gullible person ever--”
“Shut up,” she said, and playfully punched his shoulder.
The two shared a little kiss initiated by Katy and seemed to forget where they were for a second. I went back to my drawing, then Jim remembered.
“Well, we’ve taken up enough of your time. How much do we owe you?”
“Oh! Not at all. Um, twelve oh six. They’re the priciest of all cookies,” I said, not really sure why I added the last part.
“Geez, Katy,” Jim said. “You’re going to make me broke. In fact, I’m not sure if I have enough--”
“Not falling for it,” Katy replied, sticking out her tongue.
“Fair enough,” Jim started. “Though the tongue thing was a little childish..”
Katy was giggling a little and Jim got a little distracted.
“Amazing sketch,” he said to me, drawing my eyes upward to him. “My friend, she’s an artist..”
“Thanks! I don’t really know if I’m any good yet, but I’m giving it a try--”
“Yeah, no. This is interesting,” he continued after trailing off. Katy was busy marveling at the displays all around the shop, content and happy with being gullible.
“I’m coming up with all the words that rhyme with Pam and Roy. And decorating them on the cake. The ideas I come up with when I’m bored, you know?”
“You have no idea.. Hey, thanks. Katy? You ready?” He said, his expression a little more impatient than before. Something about this guy wasn’t the same.
They left the shop and left me to my sketch.
What else..
jam, ram, lamb, gram..
coy, soy, ploy, destroy..
Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best idea after all.
My boyfriend stopped by to pick me up and took me out to dinner. I asked if he thought I was gullible. He said no, but I knew, somewhere, that he was lying.
Because, in the scheme of things, everyone is usually pretty quick to believe the first thing they hear.
Possibilities-- now that was something to think about.
If you let yourself consider more than your heart and mind were willing-- you might really be on to something. It was always the best idea to let the chips fall where they may, as it had become evident in so many ways.
And would continue to.
Sarah promoted me to assistant manager the next week.
I never got to make the rhyming cake.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Jim and Katy at the bakery !
