Promises_Star's Bakery

by Mary Jane Forbes

  “Yes. Poor Mr. Doe. They have no idea who he is. Benny is the only one who could shed some light and that was very little. Okay, dear, where should I start? We don’t have a moment to waste. Thanksgiving pickups will start arriving before we know it.”

  “Wanda separated the orders into four piles—bread and cookies, pies, and cakes. We figure that whoever tackles the bread can do the cookies while the bread dough is rising. We’ll all take turns decorating the cookies. If we’re lucky we might finish before midnight. Then we can get a few hours of sleep before our customers start coming in tomorrow to pick up their orders.”

  “Okay if I take the pie orders? I love the sweet scent of mincemeat. Although I have to say, pumpkin gives me the willies today,” Gran said setting up her space in the kitchen.

  “What’s the matter with pumpkin, Mary?” Wanda asked bumping through the doors to the kitchen with a fist full of cake orders.

  “Pumpkin was found in Mr. Doe’s stomach. I guess Benny gave him a spicy pumpkin cupcake.” Star said.

  With pumpkin cupcakes left hanging in their minds, the bakers smiled to themselves hearing Over the River and Through the Woods to Grandmother’s House We go. Benny was feeding the Wurly again. He had spent several hours at the consignment shop down the street going through their inventory of used CDs, then loaded up the Wurlitzer with holiday music. He also requested a spray can of snow which Wanda picked up.

  Benny sprayed the snow on the bottom three inches of the picture windows adding to the nostalgia of an old-fashioned bakery. The retirees from the north commented how they loved to come into the bakery with the aroma of baking bread, lace curtains, and now snow—it felt like home … a little.

  Star set up the mixer with a dough blade, sorted the bread orders, as her cell phone rang.

  “Hello, Star’s Bakery.”

  “Now, isn’t this a treat to hear your voice, Star Bloom.”

  “Sorry, I don’t recognize your voice. Who’s calling and how can I help?”

  “I’m crushed that you don’t recognize my voice. Here, let me put my partner on the line.”

  “Hello, Miss Bloom. It’s Stephanie Hall. Jim Whisk and I have wonderful news.”

  “Oh, my. How are you?” Star wasn’t sure if she felt glad or mad to know the scoundrels were on the line, the producers who skipped town because they didn’t have the prize money they owed her.

  Jim was back on the line. “We’re fine. Tickled pink. So glad we tracked you down. We called as soon as we received the news.”

  “Who is it, Star?” Gran whispered watching her granddaughter’s face grow pensive. At least it wasn’t more news about that poor Mr. Doe.

  Star covered the receiver. “Jim Whisk and Stephanie Hall. The two producers who filmed the Amateur Bakeoff.”

  “You mean the show you won and the two people who skipped town without paying you the prize money? Let’s see, that was fifty-thousand dollars I believe.” Her voice was harsh, brows raised, head shaking. She didn’t like that pair one bit.

  Star nodded. “What’s the news, Mr. Whisk?”

  “An investor has picked up the show. He has a television syndicate that wants to run it over the holidays. So time is of the essence.”

  “Hold everything. Does that mean I get my prize money?”

  “But, of course.”

  “When, Mr. Whisk?”

  “Right away. I’ll send you the contract via email. Now—”

  “Oh, no. Money first, then I sign the new contract.”

  “Oh, well, that’s not the way it works. Just—”

  “That is the way it works, Mr. Whisk.”

  “Oh, well—”

  Star could hear Jim and Stephanie whispering. The last time that pair huddled it was very bad news.

  “Okay, Stephanie and I will arrange for you to meet the investor. He will have the money. Can you make it to Orlando this Friday?”

  “No, I can’t. As you have probably surmised, I was able to open my bakery, and this is a very big weekend with Thanksgiving. I could clear my schedule Monday, however.” Star shared grins with Gran and Wanda.

  “That’s showing him,” Wanda whispered.

  “Okay. We think the investor will still be in Orlando. I know he’s visiting family for the holiday. I’ll email you the time and place. We’ll shoot for Monday, late morning, say eleven o’clock. Will that be good for you?”

  “Yes. I look forward to seeing you and Stephanie—with the prize money. I’ll be especially happy to meet this new investor. Bye.” Star couldn’t help but add a sugary tone to her voice bordering on the sarcastic. She pocketed her cell. “So, Wanda, will an influx of cash, fifty thousand, help our cash flow problem?”

  “What cash flow problem,” Wanda replied, grinning as she began mixing the batter for a ginger-spice cake to fill the next order on her list.

  Chapter 14

  THE SUN WAS HIGH in the sky matching Star’s soaring spirits. In spite of Detective Watson closing the shop for two hours, they had filled all the orders. Friday and Saturday following Thanksgiving, the phone had rung off the hook with holiday orders. Seems their customers were more than happy with their pies, breads, and other baked goods. They were not only placing additional orders for their holiday tables but also ordering baked goods as gifts for family and friends, as well as guests who might pop by for a glass of holiday cheer.

  Wanda warned that even with the cash from Thanksgiving it was going to be almost impossible to purchase all the ingredients for the new orders. Star immediately countered that the coffers would soon receive a big bump after she met with Mr. Whisk.

  Speeding west on Route 4 to Orlando, Star glanced at Gran. Their hearts were beating in unison with excitement.

  “Seems like Ty’s riding with us for luck, meeting only a half mile from Disney World, don’t you think, Gran?”

  “Yes, dear. Next exit. Exit 74A, then a left onto Turkey Lake Road. Less than a quarter mile.”

  “Got it,” she said giggling. “Turkey Lake Road … a good luck charm along with our Thanksgiving success. You know, Gran, I really don’t hold a grudge against Jim and Steph. They tried. Like they say, that’s show biz—close before you even open.”

  “There … Dunkin Donuts. Drive-in lane is backed up—lunchtime, I guess. There’s an opening … park there, dear.”

  Inside the coffee shop Gran led the way to a table vacated by three young women chatting so fast they almost bumped into her as she slid into a chair. Star sat in the chair next to Gran, chuckling at her near miss. Gran picked the perfect table for an important conference—back in the corner with four chairs.

  The shop was filled with animated conversations, mingling with the mouth-watering scent of fresh baked bagels and the ever famous Dunkin’ coffee. Business people sharing their adventures over the long weekend. Star touched Gran’s hand, nodded to the paper snowflakes stuck on the window next to their table. She thought of Benny spraying foam snow on the bakery windows.

  “Want a cup of coffee, Gran. I sure want one—after an hour on the road. I have to be sharp for our meeting. We have time—twenty minutes until eleven o’clock.”

  “Yes. But make it a small cup or I’ll get too jittery. After you get the coffees, I have to run to the restroom.”

  • • •

  REFRESHED, SIPPING THEIR COFFEE, Star pulled out a pad of paper from her tote.

  “It’s nice to have a few minutes to catch our breath. We learned so much from our first two weeks. Now we have to plan for Christmas, New Years, Hanukkah, all the holidays. Maybe around December fifteenth run an ad for bakery specials. We have to create some excitement.”

  “I like it,” Gran said, taking a sip, looking over her shoulder so she could wave down Jim and Stephanie.

  “With the fifty grand we’ll have some breathing room. Like Wanda said, ‘what cash flow problem.’ We’re so lucky she joined us. I think it would be a good idea to hire some part-time help. Don’t you?”

  “Oh, yes. I don’t
think I could hold up under the pressure again—getting everything ready for the opening, then Thanksgiving … definitely need help for the upcoming holidays.”

  “When I was taking the baking classes, the culinary arts students were always looking for some hours to earn money. They would be a big plus—already knowing how to bake bread. Of course, they didn’t have your special recipes, Gran.”

  “Why don’t you ask Tyler about advertising?”

  “Good idea. And his mom. Cindy advertises all the time for her real estate listings.” Star looked at her watch.

  11:15 a.m.

  “I think I’ll get another coffee. How about you, Gran?”

  “No thanks, I can barely keep my hands from shaking as it is.”

  Star returned to the table with a small coffee and a plain bagel. Tearing it in half, she placed a piece on a napkin for Gran. “Eat this. It will help mop up those jitters,” Star said smiling. “Do you think I have the right Dunkin? I thought they’d be here by now.”

  “Check your email, dear.”

  “Jim didn’t send an email. He left a voice-mail.”

  “Then his number. It should be listed on your … shouldn’t it?”

  “He must have borrowed someone else’s phone. I tried. They’d never heard of a Jim Whisk. You know, sometimes you have to recharge your phone so you use someone else’s while you wait.”

  “What about his other messages when you were in the bakeoff competition?”

  “I tried to send him a message a few weeks ago to see if there was any activity around the show. It came back with the dreaded Daemon—unknown addressee. The bakeoff website isn’t available anymore.”

  11:30 a.m.

  “Gran … you don’t suppose?”

  Gran shrugged her shoulders, her eyes riveted on the door, watching customers come and customers go.

  12:00 p.m.

  • • •

  STAR POUNDED THE STEERING wheel as the red SUV sped east on Route 4 to Daytona Beach.

  “Duped again. A sucker, that’s what I am, Gran. Why did I believe them? They’re charlatans.”

  “But they wanted you to meet—”

  “Meeting was my idea. The investor was to bring the money, a check, because I said I wouldn’t do anything further until I had the prize money, the fifty grand, they owed me. I bet they got the money and fled, skipped town again. I just know it. I’m screwed again.”

  Star’s phone trilled a bar of jingle bells, her new setting for the arrival of a text message.

  • • •

  “How did meet go? T.”

  “They no show. S.”

  “Pox on them. T.”

  “R U still coming home? S.”

  “3 weeks. Can’t wait 2 see U. Chin up, Ms. Bloom. T.”

  Chapter 15

  STAR DRAPED HER ARM around Gran’s shoulders as they walked slowly up to the back door of the bakery. Neither wanted to face Wanda, neither wanted to tell her they were back empty handed. There was no fifty thousand dollars.

  Sighing, hesitating, Star tried to put on a brave face as she pushed the door open stepping inside, Gran close behind. Both of their jaws dropped. The Butterworth sisters appeared to be in charge. Hattie had a smudge of flour on her nose. The frilly white apron around Mattie’s waist was streaked with chocolate. Anne was calling out to Wanda asking where the rest of the spices were kept. The cinnamon jar was empty.

  Wanda, answering her call for spices, hustled through the swinging doors into the kitchen to find her employers looking as if they had lost their best friend, gawking, speechless at who was in the kitchen … in aprons no less.

  Wanda raced to Star giving her a tight squeeze, then squeezed Gran.

  “What’s going on?” Star stammered looking from sister to sister, back to Wanda.

  “It’s all good, Star. After you and Gran left for your meeting with the producers, I joined Benny and the Butterworth sisters for a cup of coffee. No one was in the shop. I told them how great it was that we were going to have an influx of cash, sorely needed, I told them we were swamped with orders but not enough funds to cover the ingredients. I told them I was calling the college to see if we could get some student help.”

  Interrupting, Anne stepped forward, always the leader for her sisters, Hattie and Mattie. “We told her to look no further. We could help in a pinch.”

  “We do know our way around the kitchen, Star. Maybe not creative like you,” Hattie said.

  “But we can crack an egg and sift some flour” Mattie added.

  “That’s wonderful, but you can’t … we can’t pay you.”

  “What do you mean?” Wanda asked. “With the money—”

  “There isn’t any money. Jim and Stephanie never showed up.” Star looked at Wanda’s face falling in alarm. “Gran and I think they skipped town with the money, or there never was any money, never was another investor … we don’t know. But we do know we don’t have a check to deposit. And … ” Star sighed looked to the ceiling, fighting back tears. “And so … we can’t pay you, Anne. But thank you for—”

  “Poppycock. We’ll consider this our next adventure. Won’t we?” Anne looked at Hattie.

  “Oh, yes.”

  “A new adventure,” Mattie said a twinkle in her eyes.

  “We don’t make any money now … going from one adventure to another,” Anne explained. “So, the way I look at it, zero plus zero equals zero. No better, but more to the point, no worse off than we were before we put on these aprons. Agree, Hattie? Mattie?”

  The sisters grinned back at Anne—so smart. “We agree.”

  “Now, Wanda, where do you keep the spices?” Anne asked opening a cupboard door.

  Star shook her head. “Wait, if you help us, maybe by January we’ll have our heads above water enough to begin paying you. Wanda, you keep an accounting of the hours the Butterworth sisters work. This is a debt that we are going to pay off … pay accumulating from today.”

  The sisters looked wide-eyed at Wanda, waiting. Paid for an adventure? That had never happened before.

  “It’s a deal, provided we’re still in business in January. Star, you won’t believe how quickly the sisters filled the display cases—Hattie is a whiz at bread, and Mattie … well, her cakes are beautiful. Just come with me …

  “Wanda, hold on. The rest of the spices, please! We’re out of cinnamon,” Anne reiterated, hands on her hips, trying hard to look stern but failing as her lips spread into a smiley face.

  Ka-ching!

  Star looked at Gran. Benny was out front racking up another sale.

  • • •

  JINGLE BELLS RANG OUT from Star’s pocket.

  “R U back at bakery? T.”

  “Yes. U won’t believe who in kitchen. Baking! Anne, Hatt & Matt. I can’t pay them. A.H.M. say don’t care, S.”

  “Yeah! + I had call from indie film company. Interested in Baker Girl. T.”

  “Fingers crossed 4 U, S.”

  “Mine crossed 4 U, T.”

  Chapter 16

  NIGHT HAD FALLEN, ending a day filled with bad news followed by a dramatic up tick. Star couldn’t stop smiling. The crazy, wonderful Butterworth sisters jumping in to help, thrilled to be starting a new adventure. Climbing the ladder to the top bunk, Star’s lips turned up in a loving smile as she gazed through the rungs at Gran. She was snoring softly exhausted from the day’s bumpy ride.

  Settling on her bunk images of the day raced through her mind. She was furious with Jim and Stephanie. She tried to push the no show aside but she couldn’t. Climbing back down the ladder, she picked up her phone lying next to the blender, slid down on the floor hoping the counter would act as a noise buffer. She didn’t want to wake Gran. Scanning her directory, she found the number and punched the entry.

  “Salinas.”

  “Manny, I’m sorry to call so late … what was that? Sounded like a baby. Where are you?”

  “I’m at the hospital. I’m pushing speaker. I want you to congratulate my beau
tiful, incredible, fantastic wife on giving me a baby girl.”

  Star could hear Manny struggling to keep his composure.

  “She’s perfect. The cutest little six-pound baby girl with a mop of red curls.”

  “Liz, Liz, can you hear me?” Star squealed into the phone forgetting about Gran.

  “Yes, Star. We hear you. My dear husband is exaggerating, but I like to hear his words just the same.”

  “I thought you had a couple more weeks before the baby was due?”

  “Me too. But little Lizzie decided it was time to meet her mommy and daddy. What’s up with you?”

  “Oh, not now. You two must be exhausted. We can talk tomorrow?”

  “Nonsense,” Manny said. “I can look at Liz and Lizzie while you talk. Give it to us. Can’t vouch for what we might say. Might be a little incoherent.”

  Star filled Manny and Liz in on what had transpired, mainly the no show meaning no money ... again. “I don’t suppose there’s any way to make them cough it up. Of course, it may have all been a ruse, even a misunderstanding on my part that I was actually going to meet the investor and that they really said they would have the money.”

  Star looked up as Gran slid down next to her on the floor, leaned against the cabinet. “Liz had her baby. Liz and Manny are both on the phone,” she whispered. “In the hospital.”

  “Do you have an email address? Anything from the bakeoff?” Manny asked. “Telephone number they called you from?”

  “No, no, and no. Liz, Gran is here by my side.”

  “Liz, dear, congratulations. When was the baby born?”

  “Early this morning. She’ll be a whole day old in a few hours. Imagine that.”

  “That’s wonderful, dear. Are you all right? How are you feeling?”

  “I’m wonderful. Everything is fine—I counted her fingers and toes several—”