The Doughnut Fix Series, Book 1

by Jessie Janowitz

  “Oh, that’s right! I completely forgot you came in last night,” he said.

  “What was that about, honey?” Mom said.

  “What was that about? It was about a raccoon in the house. Not a make-believe one. A real one. A very large, very real one.”

  “How would a raccoon even get inside?” Jeanine said.

  “Good point,” Dad said. “They’re not like mice. They can’t fit under doors. Okay, can anyone recall holding open the door for a raccoon? After you, Monsieur Raccoon.”

  Zoe giggled.

  “Ha. Ha.” So they didn’t believe me. Let them bump into Monsieur Raccoon in the bathroom in the middle of the night. I hoped they did. They deserved it.

  “It’s just magical, isn’t it?” Mom gazed out the window at the snow-covered trees. “It’s like the world’s been iced.”

  “Does everything have to be about food with you?” Jeanine said.

  “This cannot be happening.” I looked from the window to the doughnuts and back again.

  “What did you think?” Jeanine said. “You’re opening an outdoor stand in the middle of winter.”

  “I know. We just…” What could I say? I was a nuddy.

  “Go ahead. Have one.” I shoved the box at her. “Nobody’s going to show up now anyway. What’s the point?”

  “Oh, no.” Mom snatched the box. “You’re going. Even if you’ve only got one customer.”

  “How will people even get there in this?”

  “I’m sure there are plows out right now,” Dad said. “And everyone around here has four-wheel drive and snow tires.”

  “I’m calling Josh,” I said.

  I went to the kitchen phone and dialed. There was no answer.

  “See, he’s already out in the snow waiting for you,” Mom said. “Let’s go.”

  She was right about one thing. Even if we didn’t have customers, I couldn’t let Josh down.

  It was 7:44 on the digital car clock when we pulled up in front of Winnie’s. Josh was supposed to have the card table set up there by then, but the table wasn’t out and neither was he. Nobody was, and there wasn’t a car in sight. Petersville was as dead as it had been that first morning, except now it was covered in snow.

  “I’m telling you, Josh saw the snow and went back to sleep,” Jeanine said.

  “He wouldn’t do that,” I said, and I believed it. I did. But where was he?

  “He probably thought nobody but a complete idiot would come out in a blizzard and try to sell doughnuts on a street corner,” Jeanine said.

  “Cut it out,” Mom said.

  “He would have called. He wouldn’t just not show up,” I said.

  “So where is he then?” Jeanine said.

  “Jeanine? Did you hear Mom? Sa soofee!” my father shouted.

  That did it, and for a while the only sound in the car was the click-click of the blinkers as we sat there slowly disappearing under the snow.

  “Look, don’t those brighten up Main Street?” Mom pointed to flickering, white Christmas lights strung between the General Store and Renny’s.

  “Kinda weird,” Jeanine said. “They’re only on one side of the street.”

  “Maybe they just haven’t finished putting them up,” Mom said.

  It was quiet again for a while. Then Jeanine said, “We should go.”

  “We’re not going,” Dad said.

  “We’re gonna get stuck,” she sang to the tune of I-told-you-so. “The tires are already covered.”

  “We won’t get stuck,” Mom said.

  “People die in blizzards like this. They starve, and they freeze,” Jeanine said.

  “I don’t want to starve and freeze,” Zoe said.

  “Nobody’s going to starve and freeze. This isn’t even a blizzard. It’s a little winter snow, and it’s gorgeous,” Dad said.

  “A little winter snow? What do you call a hurricane? A little summer breeze?”

  “If she wants to go, let her go!” I shouted, throwing open the car door. Then I climbed out and slammed it hard behind me.

  If Josh wasn’t going to show, if no one was going to show, I couldn’t be in that car with them when I gave up.

  “Tris, get back in!” Mom shouted out her window.

  “Where are you going?” Dad called out his.

  “Winnie’s,” I said, taking the doughnuts out of the trunk.

  Winnie was all business. If it turned out nobody was coming, she wasn’t going to feel bad for me. And no way would she put up with me feeling bad for myself. She’d make it about the doughnuts and the business, our business.

  I was almost to Winnie’s front door when something in her window made me stop. The sign. I’d seen it so many times I never even read it anymore, but the Christmas lights had been strung up on the outside of the window right around it so my eyes couldn’t help themselves:

  Yes, we really do have chocolate cream doughnuts!

  Follow the flashing lights!

  I stumbled back through the snow as fast as I could.

  “Look at the sign!” I called out as I put the boxes back in the trunk.

  “Follow the flashing lights?” Jeanine said. “What is this? The Wizard of Oz?”

  “Go, Dad, go!” I said as soon as I was back in the car.

  By the time we reached the other end of Main Street, I knew where we were headed. The little station house exploded with so much light, you probably could have seen where we were headed from way out in space.

  “Oooooooh! Pretty!” Zoe said.

  Every inch of the little building flashed with tiny white lights that sparkled on the snow like a disco ball.

  “It’s a crime against the environment is what it is,” Jeanine said.

  “I don’t believe it!” Mom said. “Do you see all those cars?”

  “Where?” I said.

  She put down her window and stuck her arm out. “Look!”

  There, in the lot on the far side of the station house, sat mound after car- and truck-shaped mound of snow.

  “They must have been here for hours,” Dad said as he pulled up in front of the station house.

  A hooded figure in an army-green parka climbed down the porch steps, waded through the snow to our car, and knocked on my window.

  I put the window down, but before I had a chance to open my mouth, Jeanine pushed forward and stuck her head out. “Do you have any idea how much electricity you’re wasting?”

  Winnie rolled her eyes. “This the sister?”

  “Yeah, one of them,” I said.

  “Do you even know we’re in an energy crisis?” Jeanine went on.

  “Yup,” Winnie said.

  “Jeanine,” my father warned.

  “Oh, don’t stop her on my account. I can take it,” Winnie said.

  “So, don’t you think we all have a responsibility to conserve electricity?” Jeanine said.

  “I sure do,” Winnie said.

  “You do?” she said sadly. I could tell she’d been gearing up for a good fight.

  “Yup. That’s why I have all these lights on solar-powered batteries. Quite a project, but me and Dr. C got it done. Now if you don’t mind, Slick’s got to get in there and make me some money,” she said, opening the car door. “Get going, Slick.”

  “I just have to get the doughnuts out of the back,” I said as I got out.

  “My condolences,” Winnie said as we climbed the porch steps. “My brother Clive’s a peach compared to that one.”

  “Camping blankets! Wool socks! Folding chairs! Beef jerky!” somebody called from inside the station house.

  “What’s that?”

  “Harley. Gotta give the man credit. He certainly knows how to make the most of a business opportunity. I know it might seem like he was stealing your thunder, but
look at it this way, if he hadn’t brought in those portable heaters, no way people would have made it till now.”

  “Maybe I should thank him then.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far. Let’s just say it was mutually beneficial. He’s made a killing on those folding chairs and wool socks. See for yourself,” she said as she pushed open the door.

  The place was packed, people everywhere, grown-ups, kids, some huddled around heaters, some sitting in circles of matching camping chairs, some lying on sleeping bags. Most I’d never seen before, but as I looked around, I spotted every person I’d met since coming to Petersville: Mr. Jennings from the turkey farm, Riley, Jim, Dr. Charney, Josh’s mom, some families from the library, the kid from the Gas Mart.

  And standing in the ticket window, opening the bag of napkins he’d brought from home just like he’d promised, was Josh. He smiled and waved.

  “That kid’s been up all night getting this place ready. Him and his mom and me and Jim and Dr. Charney, all of us,” Winnie said. “We knew you’d be busy with the doughnuts. Place cleaned up pretty good, no?”

  “Way better than pretty good,” I said.

  The garbage that had covered the floor had been replaced by overlapping rugs of all colors, shapes, and sizes. Red paper lanterns hung from the rafters, and colored lights wound around the little tree growing out of the middle of the floor.

  But the biggest change since I’d peeked through the window on my first day in Petersville? A floor-to-ceiling steam engine painted in whites and grays like it was made of clouds stretched across the entire back wall.

  “Did Dr. Charney do that?”

  “When he wasn’t helping with the lights. Paint isn’t even dry,” Winnie said.

  “Where’d all these people come from?” I said, looking around the room.

  “Where do you think? From here.”

  I guess it made sense that I didn’t recognize most of them. Where would I have seen them? They couldn’t have had any more of a clue who I was than I did who they were, but suddenly, the whole room was on its feet, clapping and cheering, closing in on me.

  “Is that for Tris?” Zoe said, coming in behind me.

  “Don’t be silly, honey. It’s for the doughnuts,” Winnie said.

  Just then, a man elbowed his way to the front of the crowd. From his yellow-white hair and matching teeth, I knew right away who he was.

  “You back up,” Winnie said, giving Clive a shove. “You get yours last.”

  “How come?” Clive said, frowning.

  “Because. That’s why,” Winnie said, poking him in the gut.

  “That’s the thanks I get for printing you those nice stickers, free of charge?”

  Winnie snorted. “Huh. Like that makes up for all the nonsense you put me through. Keep talking, and you don’t get any.”

  “All right, all right. I’m going,” Clive said and slunk back into the crowd.

  “Hey, there, Mr. Doughnut Stop!” someone called. “Quite a turnout, huh?”

  “Who was that?” I studied the crowd.

  Winnie pointed to a corner of the room where Harley stood in front of a table piled high with surprisingly useful merchandise.

  “Earmuffs?” He held up a pair with long, droopy dog ears.

  “Nah, I’m good, thanks.”

  “C’mon, people, relax!” Winnie shooed everyone back. “We still got to get set up, so give us a little room here.”

  It took some work—and threats to revoke doughnut privileges—but eventually Winnie cleared a path for us from the front door to the ticket window.

  “So, what do you think?” Josh said, popping up over the ticket counter. “I figured we could sell from inside the booth and then pass the doughnuts out through the window. Good idea?”

  “Great idea!” I said.

  “Did you see the sign?”

  “Yeah, that’s how I knew where to come.”

  “No, the other sign.” He pointed up.

  I put the doughnut boxes on the ticket counter and took a step back. Someone had hung Winnie’s YES, WE DO HAVE CHOCOLATE CREAM DOUGHNUTS! sign on the wall above the window.

  Winnie gave herself a pat. “My idea.”

  “Also your idea to set up here in the station house?” I said.

  She laughed.

  “What?”

  “Jim told us it was yours,” Josh said.

  “Really?” Was this some other wink-wink with Jim the Mayor/Carpenter/Kidnapper that I wasn’t in on? I scanned the room and spotted him standing by the back door, shovel in hand, talking to my mother. “Back in a sec.”

  “Still not checking those weather reports, huh, Jax?” Jim said when he saw me coming. “Tell me, what do you think of all this?”

  “It’s so cool, but why are you telling people it was my idea?”

  “Because it was. Don’t you remember what you told me that day? Town needs somewhere everybody can get together. You said this place was it.”

  I did remember. I just couldn’t believe that he did, and that he’d thought it was such a good idea he’d just gone and done it.

  “Look around. You were right.” He turned me to face the room.

  Zoe had joined a group of kids sitting on the floor listening to Riley play the guitar and was throwing in her own strum of the strings when she could sneak it in. Gonzo and Ziggy were there too, spread across the floor, being used as pillows. Dad was over by Harley’s table talking with some people, and even from all the way across the room I knew which corny joke he was telling. At first, I didn’t see Jeanine and wondered if maybe she was freezing in the car in protest, but then I spotted her in a corner, crouched over a chessboard opposite a man with a long, gray ponytail. Even though the man had racked up twice as many pieces as she had, for the first time in a very long time, she didn’t look like she were wishing she were someplace else.

  “Jim also told me you thought the station house would make a great restaurant. And you’re so right,” Mom said, smiling her biggest smile. “It’s perfect! Even the name: the Station House. I love it. That’s what we were just talking about. Putting my restaurant here. Since I wouldn’t be serving breakfast, I’d be closed when the Doughnut Stop was open. You willing to share? You did see it first.”

  “I think we can work something out,” I said.

  “Very generous of you,” Jim said, winking at me.

  From across the room, Winnie waved me over. “Let’s sell some doughnuts!” she called.

  Jeanine jumped out of her chair and raced across the room to the ticket window. “Wait! Stop! I just had an idea. You guys should auction off the doughnuts.”

  “You mean sell them to the people who can pay the most?” Josh asked.

  “Yeah. Think how much money you’ll make. Look at these people. They’re totally desperate.”

  “This girl reminds more of Clive every second,” Winnie said.

  “But then some people might not get any,” Josh said.

  “Yeah, but it’s not as if you won’t be selling them every week. They can get some next time. Come on. It’s such a good idea.”

  I looked at Josh. He gave a little shrug like he wasn’t sure, but I knew he was. He hated the idea, and so did I. How could we not give everyone a doughnut after they’d come out in the snow and waited all that time? These were loyal customers, and they deserved to be rewarded.

  That’s when I got my own idea.

  “No auction, but we’re not going to just sell either.”

  “We’re not?” Josh said.

  “What’s the best way to create customer loyalty when you’re starting a business?”

  Josh grinned. “Free samples!”

  “You’re going to give them away?” Jeanine said. She looked disgusted.

  “My doughnuts?” said Winnie, who looked just as disgusted. “F
or free?”

  “We’ll make money, just not today,” I said. “It’ll be good for business long term. I promise.”

  “I don’t know,” Winnie said.

  “I know what I’m talking about, and I’m telling you, this is a smart business move. I’m thinking big picture. Trust me,” I said.

  “Oh, fine! Give them away. But I can’t watch,” Winnie said. Then she grabbed a doughnut, took a bite, and squeezed her eyes shut.

  “So, how should we do this?” Josh said.

  “Like this,” I said and climbed up on the counter. “Come and get ’em!”

  After everyone got a doughnut, we still had one left. I tried to give it to Jim, but he wouldn’t take it. He said it would look bad for the mayor to get two doughnuts when everyone else had gotten only one. Jeanine agreed and told me that just by offering Jim the extra doughnut, I could be guilty of bribing a public official. Who knew? In the end, I gave the extra doughnut to Shane, the guy who’d beaten Jeanine at chess.

  The party at the station house lasted way longer than the doughnuts did, so at lunchtime, Renny went down to the Gas Mart to pick up sandwich fixings. Unlike us though, he charged people for what they ate. Renny doesn’t really think big picture, and I don’t think he knows the first thing about creating customer loyalty.

  We never regretted giving the doughnuts away that first day. It created so much buzz that the following week, we had twice as many people waiting for us when we showed up with the doughnuts even though they knew they’d have to pay this time.

  That was three months ago, and business gets better every week. There’s so much to do I’ve even given Zoe and Jeanine jobs. Winnie thought it was a huge mistake, but most of the time, Jeanine remembers she’s not the boss, and when she forgets, I sic Winnie on her. Zoe doesn’t make trouble because she knows if she does, she won’t get paid, and she’s saving up for a pastry gun of her own.

  Since Starting Your Own Business for Dummies says your customers get bored if you don’t offer different product lines, I’ve been experimenting with new cream flavors. None of the new flavors are life changing yet, but butterscotch and caramel are close.

  You should come by sometime. I promise the Doughnut Stop’s worth the trip. Just be sure to get there early. There’s always a line, and we always sell out. Come when it snows, and the first one’s free. Beat Jeanine at chess, and the second one’s on the house too.