1
Kinsley
Flour.
Salt.
Eggs.
Mix.
I stirred the bowl in front of me, staring at the mixture as it shifted from being a collection of ordinary ingredients into something more. Savored was the best – and only – bakery in town, and it was designed to be a place where dreams came true. At least, that was the impression I’d gotten.
During a year like this one, I could use some good dreams coming true.
Now that I was working at the bakery, I was thrilled to be learning from someone as talented as Cordelia. She was the owner, and she knew everything there was to know about making delicious treats. So far, I’d made cakes and cupcakes and even a couple of pastries.
I just hoped this was going to be enough to heal my heart.
I stirred, staring at the mixture. Would it be enough to make me forget? Would working here be enough to make me stop caring about all of the hurts I’d suffered during the past year? I hoped so.
I added a few drops of food coloring to give the batter a different hue. Purple was a good color on the worst of days, and today felt pretty darn bad. Stirring again, I watched the white batter turn a deep shade of violet.
“Hey, how’s it coming along?” Cordelia walked into the kitchen, grinning. She was a beautiful woman: young and full of happiness. She was probably about ten years younger than me, but I was 42 going on 82, so the age gap seemed bigger. Most of the time, I tried not to let that get to me.
“Not too bad,” I told her. I held out the bowl so she could take a look. Cordelia leaned forward, peering into the mixing bowl. I’d been working on learning how to stir correctly. Apparently, there was a “right” way and a “wrong” way to stir batter. According to Cordelia, mixing something incorrectly could make a big difference in a bad way.
“Seems perfect,” she smiled at me and nodded. I liked that Cordelia was so encouraging. No matter what I was doing or how the day was going, she always seemed to have something nice to say. It was a great change from the boss I’d had previously. Tony Marcus had been a jerk in more ways than I cared to count.
“Thanks.”
“The baking pans are all set up for you,” Cordelia said. She walked over to a fridge and started pulling ingredients out and setting them on the counter. “Whenever you’re ready, you can fill them and start baking. I’d suggest starting on the icing as soon as the cupcakes are in the oven. They’ll bake fast, and you’ll want to give yourself some time with the icing.”
“Okay,” I nodded, trying to keep up. Cordelia smiled and placed her hand on my shoulder.