Bake Me Crazy

by Skylar Dawn

  "Can I take two?"

  "As many as you want." Noah chuckled and shook his messy hair.

  I took the first of them, the one with the chocolate crust, and the lemon one, and walked out towards the door.

  "You're not taking the Godiva one?"

  "I've had too much of that one," I giggled. "When will the big day be?"

  He gave a nervous sigh.

  "Tomorrow."

  "Good luck," I winked at him. "I'm rooting for you."

  Noah smiled showing his dimples.

  “Thanks.”

  I closed the door to his apartment and heard him take a deep breath on the other side.

  "Indecipherable," he murmured.

  #

  On that Thursday I didn't go to the pool. Of course it wasn't laziness! I wanted to wish Noah good luck before he left, but I didn't know what time that was going to be and I wasn't going to knock on his apartment so early in the morning.

  I thought it was less embarrassing to hold my spot behind the door, dressed up for work, and pretend it was a mere casual meeting of neighbors in the hallway.

  I waited about forty minutes before I heard his door open, but to be sure, I peeked through the peephole and only then left my apartment. Noah saw me through the corner of his eye as he took his key out of the lock. He was more tidy than usual, at least the shirt was more social, and I could swear he had even tried to comb his hair without much success.

  "Good morning," he said turning towards me.

  I couldn't hold myself. I took three steps and threw my arms around him. His body shuddered for a second and then he wrapped his arms around my waist and buried his face in my neck. He was nervous, there was no doubt about that.

  "Good luck Noah," I whispered in his ear. "It's going to be all right."

  He took a deep breath and did not let go of my embrace. I didn't want to let go either. I felt the musky smell of his aftershave and stroked his hair. The problem is that after some time we have to let go of certain hugs, otherwise it complicates things. I decided to let my arms slip away from him.

  His cheeks were scarlet and his smile so wide that his dimples tightened more than his eyes did.

  "Thank you Emma," he stepped back.

  "I'm rooting for you," I tilted my head and smiled back.

  "Are you going to Lou's? I'll drive you," he gestured with the car keys.

  I shook my head.

  "You don't have to," I put my hand on his chest and pushed him back a little. "I have to do some things first. Go get that job."

  He held my hand and gave a gentle kiss.

  "Thank you."

  I rested my elbows on the railing and watched him start the car and and disappear at the end of the street. I was hoping for everything to work out. Whoever his bosses were, I was sure they weren't blind to notice how talented he was. And good, genuinely good. I got lost in my thoughts for a little while and only when my cell phone beeped I paid attention to the time. It was getting late and I wanted to stop by the strip and pole dancing academy to see if they'd accept me.

  Lou had trash talked the place beforehand. He said the instructors were mean and that to enter they would measure me from head to toe and ask me to step on a scale. I thought the whole story was a little over the top, but if it was the best in this town, it was worth going through this nightmare. I took mt gym outfit with me, in case the rumors were true.

  The gym was in the heart of Vegas, in a huge shed divided in many glass rooms. Everyone looked like they'd smelled a stinking fart. The lady at the desk was the worst.

  "Woods, Emma." She said with such disdain I thought the duckface she made was going to be stuck to her face forever.

  I walked to her desk and she looked at me from head to toe, rolling her eyes.

  "You may go," she gestured to a door on the right-hand side, down the hall.

  I was scared. I never enrolled in a gym that needed an interview, an exam, a couch test, or anything that was waiting for me behind that red door. My hands were so sweaty that they slipped on the doorknob, and on the other side a girl opened the door so fast that made me jump back, scared. The poor thing passed by me in tears, bumping on my shoulders and I swear I thought about it real hard before crossing that infernal door.

  Inside the room was a scale and a blond woman in her fifties, but definitely in a body of a seventeen year old. Her face was plastered with so much botox, I wondered if she could smile without lifting her breasts.

  "Scale." She said it in a dry tone. "You don't have to change your clothes."

  I nodded and went up at once. Her expression was unreadable.

  "Mesures."

  She gestured to a space near her desk, walked up to the drawer and took out a measuring tape and a pen. I confess I had never seen anyone take measurements so quick and write on a clipboard almost at the speed of light.

  "Too much fat on your waist. But that will do."

  She gave me a green card and sent me to find the lady at the front desk. She didn’t say a word beyond that, or even changed her expression the entire time I was there and directed me back to the corridor, closing the door on my back with full force. I had no choice but to go back to duckface lady outside.

  "She told me to come here," I handed her the green card.

  Her duckface melted.

  "Welcome!" She shrieked excited.

  I widened my eyes in disbelief.

  "Did I pass?"

  The girl gave me the most fake smile I had ever seen in my life, and shook the green card.

  "The worst is over, now all you need to do is sign up."

  She wrote a bunch of zeros on a post-it and gave it to me. I almost fell behind in disbelief.

  "That's our registration fee. You can pay today if you want."

  My jaw fell three feet.

  "Isn't that the annual price?"

  She gave a hysterical laugh.

  "How funny you are," she clapped her hands as if I had told the joke of the year. “I can extend your deadline by Tuesday. Is it better for you?"

  I would have to ask Lou for an early paycheck and rely on my little piggy's credit limit. My mother always said the motivation for people to go to work are bills. The willingness to work is directly related to the numbers you have to pay.

  "It looks great," I lied. "Thank you."

  The fact is, I had no idea how I was going to afford it. I never imagined it could be so expensive. I could feed a family of wild wolves on filet mignon all year round with the registration fee. The monthly fee is was utterly absurd, I would have to diet a lot and stop buying food and live on Lou's juice. I should beg Noah to feed me once a week, or else I'd get into one of those cults where the people feed on light. In the worst case I would have to learn how to do photosynthesis.

  I got to Lou’s a bit disheartened, and of course he made me tell every detail of what had happened at that fancy gym.

  "My Saint Merlot! That’s absurd,” Lou loosened the grip on the dishcloth and threw himself on the seat behind the cashier. "Are you sure this is right?"

  I took a deep breath and opened the fridge, without the slightest excitement to drink today's juice.

  "Absolutely. I have until Tuesday."

  Lou twisted his mouth and leaned his arm on the cash register.

  "I can give you an advance," his expression was of concern. "But promise me you'll think it over before you actually sign up. What about another place?"

  I opened my eyes in excitement and gave Lou the biggest hug. "Thanks!" I squeezed him tight. "I'm sure! If I'm going to execute my plan seriously, I need to be among the best."

  He shrugged his shoulder and shook his head. He wasn’t going to agree with me this time.

  "Okay, I'll transfer to your account today."

  "Thank you, Lou!"

  It was a sign from the universe. Finally things were working out for me in this town, and very soon I would be able to rub everything in Brett's face and make him regret all the crap he did to me. The fact tha
t I had gone through measurements and that Lou decided to help me, had made me more confident, and of course, about my little piggy, I would handle my balance later.

  With success on my side, I wondered how Noah was doing in his competition. I looked at my phone to see if there was anything, but aside from Mia's last message, there was nothing else. I was worried, because it had been a long time after lunch and no sign of Noah. I wanted to do something for him, but I had no idea what it could be. I decided to ask Lou for help, since he was the master of celebrations.

  "What's the occasion?"

  "He's competing for a better job at his work."

  Lou clapped his hands excited.

  "Why don't we bake a cake?"

  "We?" I was incredulous.

  "It can't be that hard." He took the cake cookbook from the drawer and started browsing, already choosing one.

  I twisted my mouth in disagreement.

  "It's going to be a catastrophe."

  "Why so pessimistic Emma Woods?! It's just a cake, it won't kill us."

  "The potential for this to happen is real! I don't cook anything! And I will not be responsible if you burn your Caffé."

  Lou took a napkin and marked a page of the book, then closed it.

  "Let's go to the kitchen."

  He ran to the front door and turned over the sign, closing the place for the day. He was taking this seriously. I decided to try, you know? If it ended bad I'd figure out a way to get him something on the way.

  Lou separated the ingredients and gestured to the flour sack.

  "Open it up for me, please, I had my nails done today."

  I rolled my eyes and took the bag of flour with both hands. It was too hard to rip, so I pulled it harder. Nothing opened. Lou started drumming his fingers on the counter, impatient. That's when the whole thing blew up, and the flour flew everywhere. Lou burst into laughter, and I stood there looking at him like those women who uses way too much powder and end up with their faces all white. I tried to wipe the flour from my eyes, but it was so much that I was feeling its grains inside my bra.

  "Girl," Lou fell on his knees on the kitchen floor, "It's still raw! I know you love cake, but this one doesn't even have eggs."

  I blew the flour from my lips and stared at Lou with hatred. A huge handful fell from the top of my head and he squirmed on the floor.

  "Very funny."

  He picked up the a sheet pan and turned the mirrored back to me, forcing me to look at my reflection. I tried to hold back my laughter, but I looked like a breaded steak before frying. At least I had warned him, Emma in the kitchen was a disaster before it even started. However, I was glad he forced me to participate, except the part of having to clean it all up. The chocolate cake was appealing. If it was good, I'd know later when Noah get home. What if he didn't pass? I wondered. Nonsense. Of course he was going to pass.

  I carried my chocolate trophy on the way home as if I was carrying gold. I left it on my kitchen counter, very proud of my culinary achievement. Never in my life I had made a cake. Of course, I almost turned into one, and I'm going to tell you, taking flour out of my hair was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. The more I cleaned the more it reappeared. Like magic.

  When the doorbell rang I ran to open, anxious about the result. I didn't say hello to Noah.

  "How was it?" I held my breath.

  He grinned and hugged me tight.

  "I passed!"

  "I knew it!" I pulled him into my apartment. "Come on in! I made something for you."

  I took his hand and led him to the kitchen counter. "Ta-da!" I pointed to the cake.

  "You made me a cake?" His eyes widened in disbelief.

  I took two small plates from the cabinet, the cutlery, and cut two slices.

  "I had help," I confessed.

  Noah was excited.

  "It doesn’t matter, you made me a cake. That's a cause for celebration. "

  "If I were you, I wouldn't count victory ahead of time. It could be a real mess. "

  What did I say that for? We should never say these negative things, because it seems to attract bad mojo. When I took the first bite I wanted to spit it all back. It was completely salty. I had to stop him from eating that stuff.

  "Don't eat that," I tried to pull his plate. "It's awful."

  Noah laughed and shoved half the slice in his mouth at once. He didn't even frowned.

  "Stop eating that, Noah, you're going to kill yourself!"

  "Shush," he said with his mouth full. "I like bittersweet stuff."

  "Bittersweet? If you lick a salt shaker it's going to be less salty than this cake. There's not a grain of sugar in there."

  He stuck the rest of the slice in his mouth without even blinking.

  "Let me eat my cake."

  I threw both arms up and frowned, giving up.

  "I'm not going to be held responsible if you kick the bucket."

  Noah cut another slice and started eating like it was the best cake in history. I was nauseous watching that. I leaned back on counter, refusing to serve as a witness.

  "What's that in your ear?" He turned his neck, passing his index finger in my ear. "Flour?"

  I burst into laughter.

  “It's a long story. Baking cakes is a very dangerous activity."

  He was still eating the damn salty cake.

  "Noah, I’m serious, you don't have to eat that. You'll end up having a stomachache. "

  I tried to throw the cake in the trash and he grabbed my arm.

  "It's mine. I'll take it home."

  #

  I took one of the cheesecakes I had taken from Noah to Mrs. Dunn's house in an attempt to apologize for my absence at the last water aerobics session. The girls were gathered around a circular table playing Bridge, and apparently Mrs. Wilson was winning everything.

  "Come in, darling," Mrs. Dunn motioned to the girls. "We're already finishing the game."

  "I brought you a bribe," I raised the pyrex of the cheesecake.

  Mrs. Davis put her cards on the table, giving up fighting with her friend.

  "Just in time! Edith is stealing everything."

  Mrs. Dunn walked into the kitchen and began preparing fresh coffee. I sat on one of the empty chairs next to the girls, placing the cheesecake on the center of the table.

  Mrs. Wilson stretched her index finger and passed on the lemon cream.

  "Hmm," she said in approval. "Did you bake it?"

  I shook my head.

  "It was Noah, my neighbor."

  Mrs. Dunn arrived with a tray full of cups and plates, and a steaming pot of coffee.

  "Noah? Noah Cook?" She asked intrigued. "That quiet guy who lives next to you?"

  "That one."

  Mrs. Davis's eyes widened and she wrinkled her forehead at Mrs. Dunn.

  "There's a guy living in this condo? How come I'm not aware of that?"

  Mrs. Dunn rolled her eyes and cut four large slices, the size I like. A little lemon syrup fell on her hand and she licked it.

  "He arrived two of years ago," she was thoughtful. "And what were you going to do with that information?"

  "Take a peek, of course! "

  Mrs. Wilson gave a lively laugh.

  "Alma, with your sight only if you peeked through a telescope. Did you know I found her other day cleaning the house with detergent instead of disinfectant?"

  Mrs. Davis shrugged her shoulders.

  "Same old same," she shook her head irritated. "These labels are all the same nowadays."

  I served the girls while Mrs. Dunn was passing the plates with the cheesecake.

  "I didn't know you knew him," she turned to me. "He’s quite handsome, isn't him?"

  Mrs. Davis leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, irritated.

  "A handsome guy here in this building and nobody tells me anything!"

  "Alma, there are things that are for our own good. Besides,” Mrs. Dunn sneered at her friend. "He lives on the same floor as Emma, which means there'
s a flight of stairs."

  "Depending on the product label, I’m willing to stretch my skeleton to the top of the shelf."

  The table burst into laughter.

  "This cheesecake is very tasty," Mrs. Dunn pointed to the pyrex with her fork. "A handsome guy who cooks."

  I agreed, attacking more of my piece.

  "He cooks very well, yes."

  Mrs. Dunn threw me a malicious look and tapped my leg three times.

  "But so far you haven't spoken if you think he's good looking."

  The girls dropped their forks and narrowed their eyes at me.

  "I never paid attention to that."

  Mrs. Davis gave a dissatisfied sigh.

  "These girls today don't know how to have fun. They don't pay attention to anything."

  Across the table, Mrs. Wilson nodded her head in agreement.

  "True," she put her chin in her hands, thinking. "In our day we would have his complete record. Do you know if he has a girlfriend?"

  "I have no idea," I replied.

  Mrs. Dunn twisted her mouth and thought for a second.

  "There's a pretty girl who comes in from time to time and stays for a few days, but she's also very reserved, never even used the pool, so if he has a love, she doesn’t live here."

  Mrs. Davis smirked.

  "Maybe she doesn't go out because it's far more interesting indoors."

  I choked laughing.

  "Quiet Alma," Mrs. Wilson waved her hand in front of her head. "You and your tendency to speak nonsense."

  Mrs. Dunn added another slice to her plate.

  "Emma dear, you've been here a while and I've never seen you bring anyone home."

  I looked at Mrs. Dunn through the corner of my eye, and I didn't say a word. She then completed it.

  “I didn't notice you spending any nights away from home either.”

  The girls narrowed their eyes in my direction and Mrs. Davis nudged me.

  "That doesn't sound very right to me."

  I looked away, pretending to be misunderstood, but Mrs. Dunn was more incisive than Mia.

  "When was the last time you went on a date?"

  I took the napkin from my lap and placed it next to my plate.

  "Well, I'm not into dates, but the last one was with my last watermelon."