Mattie's Meltaways

by Mary Manners

  “It still smells good.” Mattie sniffed the batter and poked at the crater. “Are you sure it’s not user error?”

  “That’s not very funny.” Grace propped a hand on her hip and wiped a smear of flour from her blue eyes. “Yes, I’m sure. I’ve been making these cakes for more than three years now.”

  “Well, you can ask Logan to take a look at it. If there’s anything wrong, he’s sure to find it and get it fixed right away.” Mattie turned back to the stove and stirred the chocolate before it began to scorch. “But I’d hate to bother him while he’s working so hard on that project for the Town Council.”

  “I know he’s busy.” Grace wiped her hands on a towel. “But the whole batch is ruined. Maybe we should ask Tyler. He might know something about ovens, and he sure has been coming around here a lot, lately.”

  “What? No!” Mattie lowered the heat on the chocolate and stepped back to the oven. A quick peek inside told her that the other half-dozen gold cakes Grace had just prepared were also ruined—each one marred by a massive depression. They deflated across the baking tray like a platoon of fallen soldiers. “We can’t bother him, either. He’s busy with work…and planning for Jessie’s birthday.”

  Grace opened the oven door and tugged the tray. Heat reddened her face and she blew a strand of hair from her eyes. “I heard he asked you to his house for dinner…and to go skating with them.”

  “What? Where did you here that?”

  “I have my sources.” Grace set the tray on the counter before peeling off oven mitts. “So are you gonna go?”

  “I told him I would…but maybe I should rethink the idea.” Mattie peered into the oven, looking for a clue as to why it wasn’t working right. She found nothing.

  “Why do you need to rethink it?” Grace frowned at the ruined cakes for a moment, and then dismissed them to gaze at Mattie. “What’s there to think about?”

  “Lydia and I were friends. It just feels…”

  “How does it feel?”

  “It’s hard to explain.”

  “Try me.”

  “What if people think—”

  “Since when have you lost a minute’s sleep over what anyone else thinks?” Grace leaned against the counter and narrowed her gaze. “All that matters is what you feel in your heart.” She splayed a hand over her own chest. “In here. So what do you feel, Mattie?”

  “I…I’m not sure.”

  “Then take a little time to figure it out.” Grace sighed. “But figure it out, OK?”

  “Never mind.” Mattie reached for a mixing bowl and a spatula. “Forget about it for now. I’ll help you start a new batch of cakes. We’ll bake them in one of the other ovens until we can figure out what’s wrong with this one.”

  “That’s fine for now.” Grace smoothed the front of her apron. “But we’ll need all three ovens to operate properly if we’re going to fill all of our orders for tomorrow on time. Should I call a technician?”

  “And spend the rest of the afternoon stumbling over him while we try to bake?” Mattie shook her head. “We’ll make do the best we can, then phone for a technician tomorrow, after all the deliveries are made.”

  “Good point,” Grace agreed. “We can wait.”

  “Let’s get a new batch of cakes prepared, and then I have to run an errand.”

  “Oh?” Grace’s blonde hair bobbed as she dumped flour into the mixing bowl, and then added a pinch of salt and a few teaspoons of baking powder. She glanced up as she began to blend the mixture with an oversized spatula. Her deep blue eyes questioned Mattie. “What kind of errand?”

  “Nothing…um…important.” Mattie shrugged and began to dip squares of mint into melted chocolate as she avoided Grace’s prying gaze. “But I’ll have to run home first, before I can do the errand. Do you think you can handle things alone here for an hour or so?”

  “Sure. And Kate’s on her way. So take your time.” A grin made Grace’s mouth twitch. She reached for a meltaway, blew on it to cool it, and then popped it into her mouth. “These are good.”

  “I think so, too.” Mattie nodded. “But are they good enough to add to our menu?”

  “You bet.” Grace smacked her lips. Her gaze wandered to the display window, and the street beyond. “Looks like snow. If this weather holds, skating conditions for tomorrow should be perfect.”

  “We’ll see.” Mattie flipped through the order pad. It was filled front to back with Valentine’s Day requests. “But we’ve got a lot to do first. Let’s get to work here.”

  “And it’s not just the skating conditions that promise to be perfect,” Grace continued. “Seems a tempest of another sort may be brewing.”

  “I have no idea what you’re referring to.” Mattie frowned, but the flutter in her chest and a slight quiver in her voice threatened to give away her true feelings. “Focus, Grace. We’ve got so much to do.”

  “OK.” Grace winked. “I’ll help you dip the meltaways, then we’ll get the gold cake started before you leave for your…um…errand.”

  ****

  Mattie shrugged out of her coat and tossed it on the bed before she took the box from her closet shelf and set it on the comforter. She lifted the lid and an unmistakable scent of leather ingrained with the musty odor of countless hours spent gliding over machine-made ice brought back a rush of memories. The skates were a bit scuffed, but it was nothing that a thorough application of creamy, white shoe polish and a new pair of laces couldn’t fix. The blades gleamed silver beneath the light, and a careful sharpening would restore them to their original beauty.

  She lifted a skate, turned it over in her hands, sniffed the leather boot, and remembered long afternoons spent at the Ice Chalet in Knoxville, gliding in circles as the cool air rushed over her face and lifted her hair in a veil around her shoulders. She’d spent hours lost in classical music, spinning, jumping, and drinking in each word the instructor said. She loved the speed, the delicate yet powerful feel as she wove together intricate moves of carefully choreographed routines. Butterflies still swarmed her belly at the exhilarating thought of competing before a crowd.

  She sighed. How many years had passed since she’d worn a pair of figure skates? At least a dozen…perhaps more. But this tiny pair of skates—the first pair she’d owned, a gift from her parents on her seventh birthday—were special…sentimental. She’d kept them all these years, hoping to pass them down to her own daughter. But that would never happen now. At nearly thirty-six, the dream was dead. She’d spent the bulk of her childbearing years raising her sisters, and that was OK…no regrets. Yet, from time to time, she wondered what it might feel like to cradle a child of her own in her arms.

  The skates looked the perfect size for Jessie, and it was a shame to hide them away in a stuffy box, stored on the top shelf of her closet, when they could be put to use. Mattie nodded, her decision made.

  She returned the skates to the box, and found a second carton stowed on the closet shelf. This held the last pair she’d owned, the ones she’d taught in, skated in, until the accident that took her parents. Her love of skating—hours spent teaching at the rink—had been shelved, literally, as she took on the responsibility of raising her sisters…of guiding them to adulthood.

  She’d take both pairs of skates—the first and last she’d owned—to the skate shop and have them polished and the blades sharpened. She’d give the smaller pair to Jessie, and maybe—just maybe, Mattie would get a chance to slip the other pair on her feet and take a glide around the ice again, with Tyler, tomorrow.

  3

  “Daddy, look at all the snow!” Jessie dipped her head back and caught a snowflake on her tongue as she twirled around the front yard. “Do you think it’s ever gonna stop fallin’ from the sky?”

  “I hope so.” Tyler balanced the smallest of three snowballs on top of the other two to form a snowman’s head. “It sure will make it hard for you to get to school tomorrow if it doesn’t.” He brushed caked-on snow from his gloves and reached into his pocket.


  “Oh, I don’t wanna miss school on my birthday.” Jessie paused and frowned. “Mrs. Skylar said everyone will sing me Happy Birthday, even though it’s Valentine’s Day, too. And she’s going to bring me a special treat.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes, Daddy. I wonder what it will be. Mrs. Skylar has lots of surprises.”

  “Here.” Tyler handed her a pair of walnuts, then hoisted her into his arms. “Give the snowman his eyes so he can see all this pretty snow, OK? And I’ll bet he’ll like to see your surprise tomorrow, too.”

  “OK, Daddy.” She pressed them into the packed snow and gave each a tiny nudge to help it set. “I wish he could talk.”

  “Maybe when he gets his mouth?” Tyler winked. “I’ll bet he’d tell you to eat all your vegetables.”

  “Oh, Daddy, that’s silly!”

  “Not as silly as this.” He laughed and slipped damp gloves beneath the collar of her jacket to tickle her neck. She squealed and wiggled in his arms until they were both breathless with laughter.

  “We have to finish him, Daddy. The stars are twinklin’. It’s getting very dark.” She dipped a hand into his jacket pocket and found the carrot he’d hidden there.

  “You’re right. It’s almost bedtime for you.” Tyler helped her burrow the carrot into the center of the snowball. “You don’t want to be tired and grouchy on your birthday.”

  “What about his mouth, Daddy?”

  “Hmm…” Tyler reached into his other pocket, pulled out a handful of jellybeans and watched her cocoa-colored eyes widen. “Will these do?”

  “Oh, Daddy, yes!” Jessie placed them, one by one, into a broad, rainbow smile. “It’s perfect.”

  When she finished, Tyler set her on the ground, and they both stepped back to admire their handiwork.

  “What do you think we should call him?” Jessie asked.

  Tyler rubbed his chin. “He looks like a Fred.”

  “Uh-uh. He doesn’t want to be a Fred. Let’s call him Sebastian. I like that name.”

  “Sebastian, it is.” Tyler laughed and tapped Jessie’s snow-reddened nose. “I’ll bet he’s excited about your birthday tomorrow.”

  “You think so?” She tilted her head as she studied the snowman’s walnut eyes and upturned mouth. “Are we still gonna go ice skating?”

  “You bet we are. The weather’s perfect for it.”

  “I can’t wait, Daddy.”

  “Me, either. We’ll have dinner first—”

  “Baked spaghetti, right?”

  “You guessed it. Then we’ll have some cake—”

  “Chocolate, with smiley faces?”

  “Of course. I checked yes on your note, didn’t I?”

  “Uh-huh.” She nodded vigorously. “And Mattie’s coming, right? So it’ll be like a real birthday party?”

  “She said she would.”

  “Yeah!” Jessie gave a delighted flurry of claps as she hopped up and down. Snow crunched beneath her pink rubber snow boots. “Let’s go inside now, Daddy. I want to draw Mattie a picture. Will you take it to her tomorrow on your way to work, when you stop for coffee?”

  “Sure, I will.” He patted her head and took her tiny, mitten-clad hand in his. “She’ll love a picture from you.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so.” He led her over the snow-buried lawn and up the stairs to the house. “Come on. It’s bath time and bedtime, because tomorrow’s a big day.”

  “A very big day.” She hugged his leg. “I love you, Daddy.”

  Tyler’s voice caught as he smoothed cinnamon curls that escaped her knit cap. “I love you, too, honey.”

  ****

  “Mattie, it’s getting late.” Kate filled the display case at Sweet Treats with a fresh batch of her signature dark chocolate-covered cherry kisses. Outside the front window, the sky was an endless length of black velvet. Snow-laden trees stood like frozen sentinels along the walk, their branches glistening beneath the soft glow of streetlights. “We can come back in the morning to finish up here.”

  “I just want to get the last of the meltaways dipped and Tessa’s teacakes boxed up. It won’t take much longer.” Mattie paused long enough to draw a sip of lukewarm hazelnut coffee from a foam cup. “You go on. I’m sure Logan’s waiting for you, and Micayla.”

  Kate glanced at her watch. “It’s after ten o’clock. Micayla’s been asleep for a few hours, and you should be, too, Mattie.”

  “I’m not tired.” She set down the foam cup and reached for a pastry box. “I’ll just stay half an hour more. I promise. You go on, Kate. Here comes Grace from the stock room. The two of you can walk home together.”

  “If we both leave, then who will walk you home?” Kate demanded.

  “I’m a big girl. I can walk home alone.”

  Grace glanced at Kate, and they both shook their heads. Grace sighed. “You’re stubborn as the day is long, you know that, Mattie?”

  “I’ve been told a time or two. Now, scoot. Both of you. I’ll expect you back here in the morning to help with these Valentine’s Day deliveries. It’s going to be a busy day.”

  “Lock the door behind us,” Kate cautioned as she slipped into her coat and tugged on a knit cap. “And promise you won’t stay too much longer.”

  “And keep your phone on, OK?” Kate added, pulling on her gloves and bundling a wool scarf around her neck. “We’re going to call to check on you.”

  “I’ll leave soon, I promise.” Mattie herded them toward the door. The bell overhead jangled as they stepped into the night. “Now, go.”

  ****

  A sharp rap on the display window startled Mattie, and she glanced up to find Tyler smiling through the glass. The collar of his jacket was covered with snow, and his breath came in white puffs that swirled around his wind-reddened face. She rushed to unlock the door.

  “What are you doing here?” Mattie ushered him into the warmth.

  “It’s good to see you, too.” He grinned at her and stomped snow from his boots. “Your sisters were right—you’re still burning the midnight oil.”

  “What are you talking about?” Mattie watched as he peeled off leather gloves and lifted his hands to his mouth to blow the chill away. “When did you see them?”

  “They stopped by my house on their way home, asked if I’d come by to check on you. They said you’d stay here working all night if I didn’t drag you away.”

  “Well, they shouldn’t have bothered you.”

  “It’s no bother.”

  Mattie turned from him to fill a foam cup with steaming coffee. She added a double hit of cream and a teaspoon of sugar, the way she knew he liked it, and handed the cup to him. “But who’s watching Jessie?”

  “Grace stayed behind. She’s probably asleep in the recliner right now.”

  “Oh, Tyler…I didn’t mean to stay so late. It’s just that there’s so much to do to get ready for tomorrow.”

  He tapped his foot. “Type A, aren’t you?”

  “What?”

  “Type A personality—driven to succeed, and all that goes with it.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “Only if it gets in the way of living.”

  “Well…I don’t think it does.” His words stung, but Mattie pushed them aside for the moment. Gold cakes were waiting to be boxed and she still had to check over the deliveries for the morning. “Do you know how to fold a pastry box?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “But I’m a quick learner.”

  “Good.” She handed him a box. “Watch me.”

  ****

  Oh, Tyler watched her. He drank in every nuance…the way she gnawed a plump lower lip and narrowed almond-shaped onyx eyes as her delicate fingers flew over the cardboard, quickly shaping it into a box large enough to hold a dozen cookies. Flour dusted her creamy-white cheeks and her long, black braid was sleek and glossy beneath the shop lights.

  “Are you watching?” Her voice, smooth as warm molasses and sweet with a slig
ht southern drawl, drew him back to the task at hand. “Fold here”—she took his hand, guiding it— “and here, Tyler.”

  Her touch, innocent as it was, ignited a bonfire of need in his gut. He tamped the desire that followed—a desire to press her fingers to his lips and kiss them, one by one. The thought startled him, and he cleared his throat, lifting the box for her inspection. “How’s that?”

  “Not bad. Try another.”

  He took a stack of unfinished boxes from her, then dipped his head back, sniffed the air. “Is something in the oven?”

  “Muffins. Why?”

  “Smells like they’re burning.”

  Mattie sniffed, then turned and rushed toward the kitchen. As she raced through the double doors, dark smoke coupled with a rush of heat billowed into the serving area.

  “Mattie, wait!”

  She turned back, her face a mask of shock, as he rushed to draw her back, away from the danger. “Tyler, call 911!”

  He pushed past her to see an oven engulfed in flames. “Move back. Make the call, Mattie.”

  And he rushed into the smoke.

  4

  Mattie hummed along with the radio in her kitchen as she spread chocolate filling over the first round layer of devil’s food cake, then added a generous sprinkle of dark chocolate shavings. She carefully placed the top layer over the filling, then stepped back to survey her handiwork.

  And she continued to hum, because it chased the tears away. Every time she thought of Sweet Treats, of the burned ovens and singed pastry tables, her eyes flooded with tears. The ceiling was a black cloud of soot, and much of the equipment had been damaged and would need to be replaced. Telling her sisters had been the hardest part…seeing the look of utter disbelief in their shocked gazes.

  But it could have been worse—she could have been hurt, or Tyler. Worse yet, Grace and Kate could have still been there, and become trapped in the flames, or Tessa, heavy with the weight of her unborn child, might have been overcome by the dense clouds of smoke.