by Linda West
He winked back. “Just trying to work out what price we can get away with.”
Dolly headed their way with a cell phone pressed to her ear talking rapidly and looking all business.
“I kinda miss the Elf outfit,” Summer whispered.
They both tried not to giggle.
Chapter 6
“It’s Ethel’s new store,” Earl said.
He had a twinkle in his eyes that brought a smile to Dodie’s lips. “Ethel, huh? Who’s that exactly?”
Earl couldn’t help smiling either as he pulled his boots on and fumbled with the laces, though he kept his head ducked. “Nobody.”
“Uh huh.” Dodie placed her hands on her hips. “And pigs can fly too, right?”
She pulled her favorite scarlet coat around her. Red had always been the color she’d longed to wear but not always felt she could pull off. Some days it would boost her, making her feel like a powerful woman stepping out into the world, but other days she would feel so inadequate, so powerless, that she couldn’t even bear to look at it, much less wear it. In those times she retreated into blacks and grays and safe, boring pastels. But as she slung her red coat over her shoulders that day, she felt good. There was hope for her future.
“Mind your own business,” Earl said playfully, then stood up and stretched. “Ready to go?”
“I was born ready,” Dodie said, her black stylish boots clicking against the floor as she crossed the hallway.
She loved that one could walk anywhere in Kissing Bridge, breathing in the cool air that was gently scented with pine. In Denver, she’d needed a car to go everywhere, with freeway after freeway lined with mini malls. So many people in the big city. She realized she didn’t miss her home with Peter there. It had never suited her, it had suited him of course.
As she and Earl walked along the sidewalk, she turned her face up to the winter sun and felt the closest thing to contentment she had in a long time.
Things were already getting better.
When they got to the parade of stores, Earl stopped still and breathed out, gazing at a shop on the other side of the street. “Now isn’t that something?”
She followed his gaze. “Landers Home Baking,” she said, reading the store sign.
It was indeed something.
The whole storefront had been painted the most delicate shade of Tiffany-blue. The store name was in a modern, angular font and had a matching black awning with silver detailing. It was a perfect mix of edgy and sweet, of modern and traditional, and immediately caught the eye for all the right reasons.
“They’ve transformed it,” Earl said, looking left and right before crossing.
Dodie crossed the street behind him and looked in the windows hungrily. She’d only had her customary coffee for breakfast and her stomach rumbled. The sight of freshly iced donuts, cupcakes piled high with frosting, and a selection of freshly baked breads made her mouth water. A piece of paper stuck in the window caught her eye.
Looking for a trainee baker, it read.
Apply inside.
Her heart beat a little faster.
Over the previous few days, she’d trawled the Internet for jobs in Kissing Bridge but the closest ones were miles away. She wasn’t in any hurry to buy a car to start commuting. She’d asked around, too, but everyone shook their heads.
This was the first vacancy she’d seen.
If only she could bake.
She guessed since it was a trainee role they weren’t looking for a master chef, but maybe someone with at least a pinch of natural aptitude.
Given her track record, she doubted she’d make the grade, but she headed into the store after Earl.
The smell was incredible and hunger clawed inside her stomach. She hadn’t realized how famished she was.
“Good morning, Earl,” a woman said from behind the counter, somewhat shyly. She kept her eyes firmly on the dough she kneaded.
“Good morning, Ethel,” Earl replied. He turned to Dodie and winked. “Dodie, this is Ethel Landers, the cookie queen of Kissing Bridge. Ethel, this is Dodie, my niece.”
Ethel smiled, then held up her doughy fingers. “Maybe not the best idea to shake your hand,” she said. “I think I saw you in church on Christmas Eve.”
“Sure, I was there,” said Dodie. “It’s a great place you have here.”
“Thank you,” Ethel said. “My daughter gave it to me and we’ve been fixing it up for a couple of weeks.”
Dodie was dying to ask if her daughter was Summer Landers, as she tried to remember if it had been Ethel who was standing beside Summer and her handsome beau, but she was too reserved.
“Big batcha donuts, coming right up,” a loud, booming voice said, and Carol came in from the back room with a huge tray full of them.
Red wisps straggled down from her beehive and she pushed them back with the palm of her hand when she laid the tray on the counter. “Well, look at that,” she said, looking at Dodie. “Come here, Miss Dodie.”
She shimmied out from behind the counter and wiggled her way to Dodie, clutching her in the tightest hug Dodie had ever received.
“So good to see you,” Carol said. “You want something to eat?”
“I’d love something,” Dodie replied, scanning all the baked goods. “It’s just so hard to choose.”
“Tell me about it,” Earl said. “These ladies are baking up a storm.”
Dodie plumped for a piece of coffee cake. Carol placed a couple of Tiffany-blue cookies on the side and nodded at Ethel. “Her award-winning recipe, handed down from her mother.”
Earl had a plate of shortbread and of course, a Tiffany-blue cookie.
They sat down at the only table and munched appreciatively, enjoying the softness of the warm light and lace tablecloth. The whole experience was just like Carol’s hug.
Carol came over to them after a while and leaned against the table, her hand on her hip. “Enjoying it?
They nodded appreciatively, mouths full.
Carol cocked her beehive to one side. “You don’t bake, do you, Dodie?”
Earl spluttered and sprayed a couple of crumbs. He’d seen her attempt at brownies.
“Oh, no, not really.”
“Perfect!” said Carol.
She leaned back and hollered to Ethel, who was in the back room.
“We’ve got ourselves a trainee!”
Chapter 7
“Jason’s coming home!” Brad hollered at the top of his lungs, running up the white steps and into their dream house.
He wove around the piles of cardboard boxes to find Summer in the kitchen unpacking dishes. He clutched the letter and practically threw himself at her. “Jason’s coming home!”
Summer squeezed him tight, full of warm affection. She loved how Brad got when his big brother was around, all goofy and funny and humble, like the best little brother anyone could ask for. He never said all that much, but she knew he was worried about his brother’s tours in the army, picking at his nails when he watched the news and pricking up his ears any time anyone mentioned war.
“He said those they didn’t let go home for Christmas will be getting extra leave through January and February,” Brad said. “Though…” His eyes scanned the letter, then lit up. “Though he’s not sure he’s even going to go back.” He actually jumped up and punched the air. “Awesome!”
Summer had never seen him so excited and couldn’t help but laugh a little.
Brad picked up the piece of toast that she’d just spread with peanut butter and jelly and took a bite into it.
“Hey!” Summer said, swatting at him.
He grinned, ripped it right down the middle and gave it back, licking the PB&J off his fingers. “I can’t help it,” he said. “It just tastes so much better when you make it.”
She tucked into her toast half, rolling her eyes, while he strode up and down the room, pushing boxes to the edge with his elbow as he ate the toast.
“I can’t wait until we’re married and we can
move into this together. And you get to stay the whole night.” Brad wiggled his brow at Summer. Summer hugged him again. She was so happy. They were building a life together bit by bit and she was loving every single thing about it.
“I should ask him to join my pilot business,” he said. “That way he won’t have to go back to war.”
“That’s not very patriotic,” Summer laughed, tidying the kitchen area.
“I want another American citizen to stay alive and not die in some dubious war,” Brad said. “That sounds pretty patriotic to me. He can fly well. Time for him to settle down, find a wife, have some kids. He’s getting on a bit now.”
“What happened to… what was that girl’s name, the girl from Georgia?”
Brad grimaced.
“Becky. I’m only telling you this because I tell you everything, so don’t tell anyone else. No one, right?”
“Sure.”
“She cheated on him.
His buddy sent him pictures to prove it.”
Summer brought her hands to her cheeks. “Oh my gosh. Poor guy.”
“You’re telling me.”
Brad sprawled out on the new sofa they bought online in the January sale, sinking into its soft beige pillows. “I think if we can get a deal with Earl going, we could do some really strong business.”
“That’s a good idea,” Summer said. “Hey, you could advertise the services together, that way you could draw in clients for the both of you.”
“I love it.” He propped himself up on his elbows and peered over at her. “Hey.”
She looked up to see his gray eyes dancing. “Yeah, baby?”
“I think we make a good team, don’t you?”
She smiled and leaned on the counter.
“Well, put it this way. There’s no one I’d rather be on a team with than you.”
Chapter 8
Dodie’s hands just wouldn’t stop shaking, no matter how many deep breaths she took or how she reassured herself in her mind. Today she was to instruct her first cooking class.
“But it’s like the blind leading the blind!” she had protested to Ethel.
“More like the partially-sighted leading the blind,” Carol corrected.
Ethel had put her arm around Dodie and told her in a gentle voice, “There’s no better way to learn than to teach. We have faith in you.”
Dodie tried to take heart in Ethel’s words, but it wasn’t all that easy. A hundred voices of doubt popped up in her mind and found her making stupid mistakes as she set up for the class that was due in at 10:00 AM.
There were six names on the list, which didn’t sound like many at first but as the class had gotten closer had felt like a whole auditorium. In fact, she might have preferred an auditorium, where everything was dark and she couldn’t watch people’s facial expressions and where they couldn’t ask questions. All she could hope was that these volunteers were novices in the most extreme sense of the word.
Miss Carol had taught her the key to baking was simply being precise. Follow the recipe. Don’t guess. Measure. Preheat the oven. Don’t over bake. Dodie knew that one.
She laid out the wooden spoons and the large mixing bowls and the bags of flour, then ran back into the main section of the bakery and tugged on Carol’s arm as she kneaded bread dough. “Can’t you take the class? Please?”
Carol shook her head. “You know I can’t.” She pointed back at the poster on the wall.
“The Valentine’s Eve Sweetheart Bakeoff,” Dodie read aloud. She’d heard them mention it but had been so wrapped up in her anxiety she hadn’t had the chance or inclination to ask. Until now. “What is that, exactly?”
Both Carol and Ethel stopped their kneading. They leaned forward and stared. She felt all too keenly the discomfort that comes from being a newcomer in a small town. Dodie had quickly found that, as welcoming as the people of Kissing Bridge were, when she was ignorant to customs that had been ingrained into the fabric of their very lives, they looked at her like she didn’t know her ABCs. Like she couldn’t even count to ten.
“It’s an auction,” Ethel explained.
“Young women in town who are looking for a sweetheart create a baked good. These are then auctioned off anonymously on Valentine’s Eve.”
“Only eligible bachelors are allowed to bid,” Carol cut in.
“Then each man is matched with the young woman who baked what he bought,” Ethel continued. “They will be dates for the Valentine’s Ball.”
“Wow, what a great custom,” said Dodie, momentarily relieved from her anxiety. “That’s so fun.”
“It sure is,” said Carol.
Ethel shaped her pastry into a pie case. “And all the money goes to charity.”
“Not only will we be baking everything for the Valentine’s Ball, but we’ve got all those girls signed up for baking lessons to woo their beaus.” Carol gestured at all the baking books piled up on the counter. “I’ve gotta flick through all of these at lightning speed to find recipes at all different skill levels.”
Ethel looked at Dodie with sympathetic eyes. “We’ll be here if you need us, no problem.”
“And if there’s anyone super advanced, you send them right back out here and we’ll get them set up in a different group,” said Carol. “We’ve tried to organize them already, but you never know.”
“So I’ve got the beginners of beginners of beginners, right?” Dodie said, twisting her red hair into a topknot and securing it with a clasp.
“Right.” Carol nudged her playfully. “Now get in there and get ready.”
Dodie took a deep breath and went back into the backroom. She scanned the Jelly Heart Drops recipe that Carol and Ethel had picked out for her, trying to tell herself it was easy. She recited the steps over and over in her head, lined up all the ingredients, and wiped the counters for the fourth time that morning. She glanced up at the clock. They were due any minute now.
Her hands jittered about, touching this and fixing that, when there was really nothing to do. In the end, she put them behind her back and rested against the counter.
She thought about the Valentine’s Eve Sweetheart Bakeoff. How ironic. She’d be helping young women to bake cookies, which she couldn’t do, and to kindle romance, which she didn’t seem to be able to do either.
For a fleeting moment she considered putting herself forward for the bakeoff, but figured that a plate of burned cookies wouldn’t fetch much interest. If, by some miracle, she pulled off passable baked goods, the young man who bid on them might not be pleased when he saw that, instead of a perky peer, he’d landed himself with a mommy of young children. A yummy mommy, maybe, but still a mom of grown kids. She couldn’t face the humiliation.
She wondered if she’d ever get another chance, if she’d ever be brave enough to take the first step out into the dating world.
Right then, romance felt a million miles away.
Chapter 9
Only four out of the six young women showed up, which Dodie was grateful for.
A cheerleader type named Tassy with a sleek mane of raven-black gloss was in first, pulling her hair up into a messy bun and making such polite and engaging conversation about her college plans that Dodie felt all her nervousness seep away.
Stephanie and Carina, obviously best friends who shared the same unusual style, came in together. Stephanie was abnormally tall with dark curls cut close to her head and striking features, while Carina was more rounded and pleasant with sandy coloring; the typical girl next door.
They both wore long-sleeved maxi dresses in thick cotton, Stephanie’s in deep sea blue and Carina’s in a dusky rose, with cinch belts around their waists. They chattered together.
Justine came in last, a sunny girl with a mass of springy curls in shades of cinnamon and caramel and a winning smile.
“Hey,” she said as she came in. “I’m Justine. I know nothing about nothing about baking so I sure hope you have patience.” She gave Dodie a hug.
“I was hoping
you guys will have patience with me,” Dodie said. She wondered why she had ever been nervous. The girls made her feel at ease. “So, you can all put on your aprons and we can get started.”
They did.
“What are we making?” Carina asked.
“I wanted to make a special three-tier cake in the shape of a heart for the Sweetheart Bakeoff,” Justine announced, giggling. “Though I guess I’ve got a long way to go!”
“Well, if you want heart-shaped, you’re in luck,” Dodie said, grinning. “We’re going for heart-shaped cookies today, with a jelly filling in the middle.”
Everything seemed to go well, the girls sailing through the measuring, mixing, and shaping. Dodie was practically jumping for joy when everyone’s cookies came out of the ovens perfectly. The cookies had to cool a little before adding the jelly, and they girls had already finished washing up while the cookies were baking, so they stood around and chatted.
“So are you entering the bakeoff, Dodie?” Justine asked.
Dodie laughed uncomfortably. “I don’t think so.”
“She probably has a husband already,” Stephanie said.
“Not anymore,” Dodie said with a grimace.
Justine took her apron off and began folding it into a tiny little square, just for the fun of it. “Oooh, so it’s time for you to get back on the market.”
Dodie looked around at them, at the genuine encouragement on their faces, and found herself confiding in them. “You don’t think I’m too old?”
“No!” they all said at once.
“And you’re so pretty it doesn’t matter anyways, even if you were,” said Tassy.
Dodie ducked her head. “You’re all so sweet.”
“Just telling the truth,” Justine said, tipping her head on the side in a cute expression and sending her curls bouncing.
By the time the girls headed home with friendly waves and their cookies proudly tucked away into boxes, Dodie felt a warm glow all around her. Not only had she managed to pull off a delicious recipe, but she’d made four new friends. She bit into one of her cookies and smiled. Things were definitely looking up.