A Little Sugar, A Lot of Love: With cupcakes, coffee and karma

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A Little Sugar, A Lot of Love: With cupcakes, coffee and karma Page 6

by Halton, Linn B


  ‘Point taken, mate. Besides, Wendy went berserk when she found out what caused the virus. I won’t be doing that again in a hurry.’

  Katie

  Business Blues

  The income column is growing, but the expenditure column seems to grow faster. After I press the refresh icon, the bottom-line total is still a negative. The red numbers seem to glow on the page with a demonic glare. After I signed the three-year contract with Althorpe Wedding Venues, Steve insisted that I take a loan from him of fifty thousand pounds to extend the shop. Without the extra space in the kitchen we simply couldn’t cope with the volume.

  I knew it was more or less his entire life’s savings, and the fact that he was willing to invest it in my business meant a lot. It was a safe enough investment, Steve had assured me, as the increase to the value of the property was greater than the cost of the work. But a little warning bell had started ringing somewhere deep inside.

  He had laid out a detailed business plan in front of me and it would have been churlish to refuse his offer. If I’d approached the bank, I had no idea if they would have entertained increasing the mortgage. One thing was certain, and that’s the fact that there would have been a large set-up fee. At least with Steve’s investment, I only had interest and capital to repay on a monthly basis. However, the building works have already over-run on cost. Now Steve will, no doubt, point out that I didn’t take his advice and factor in a contingency figure. He had suggested fifteen per cent. At the time, I remember thinking he was mad. The likelihood is that it will be at least twelve per cent over budget when I receive the final invoice. Once again, he was right.

  The pain over my eyes makes them feel heavy, and my brain struggles to scan the figures once more. I’m grasping at straws, hoping to find a mistake that will magically turn that little red figure, blue. Rather depressingly, as far as I can tell, everything appears to be correct. The only option is to suck it up, and take Steve’s advice to look for other potential contracts to boost income. I push the keyboard away with a sigh. It’s time to saunter out into the shop.

  It’s busy and there’s a buzz of activity. How can something that looks so successful be teetering on the edge all the time? If I don’t get back on track, then Steve has offered to come in and run things for a while. He says I can then spend more time behind the scenes and in the kitchen. He has a point and he means well, but things still aren’t right between us. Despite a heart-to-heart and agreeing we should actively listen to what the other has to say, he still does more talking than listening. I saw it as a second chance; Steve seems to have seen it as merely a lesson one of us needed to learn. As in, I need to listen to him more often.

  ‘The difference between success and failure often comes down to the smallest of things, Katie. So many businesses end up closing because they stand still and in this financial climate it’s a race for survival. You have to be better than your competition. You have to not only balance the books, but be solvent enough to weather the downturns. Going ten thousand over budget is par for the course, what’s important here is that I knew that and you didn’t.’

  I couldn’t argue with that last statement, it was a fact.

  ‘I promise I’ll be more receptive in future. I just want you to be proud of me.’ Tears had begun to form in the corner of my eyes and instinctively I had pushed my shoulders back, willing myself to be strong. The truth was that if I failed at this I had nothing.

  Nothing? I’d still have Steve, and us. But would it be enough?

  Steve had walked around the dining table and stood with his arms open, looking for a gesture I didn’t want to give. I pulled myself up out of my seat and let him wrap himself around me.

  ‘You don’t think I’m proud of you? I’m sinking every penny I have, almost, into your dream because I believe in you. But this is going to be a whole lot easier with two heads working on it, rather than one. You said this was what you wanted and you rejected my offer to take you away from it all. I’m selfish, I admit that and I liked the idea of being the provider for both of us. I fully accept that isn’t what you want, but a relationship is about compromise. It’s time to get serious, Katie, and if that kills off a little bit of your dream then I’m sorry, but that’s the price you are going to have to pay. The time for simply drifting along is over and now you have to become that competent businesswoman.’

  Wrapped in his arms I’d had a déjà vu moment, reminding me of those early days, shortly after we’d met. He was a glass half-full type of guy then and I loved that about him. I had only just left catering college and had taken up my first appointment as assistant pastry chef in a local manor house hotel. I was nervous but confidant, and Steve’s career was also taking off, so we fed off each other’s enthusiasm.

  With hindsight, any relationship is easy when things are going well, but it’s how you weather the stormy times that makes all the difference.

  This wasn’t so much a storm, we’d already weathered enough of those to be able to understand that, so why was I so worried? I suppose it was the fear of losing my dream, of waking up one morning to find that Sweet Occasions was just a job, like any other and that was far too depressing to even contemplate.

  A new day dawns and after yesterday’s wake-up call, all I want to do is lock myself away in the kitchen and bake, as I come to terms with reality. It’s not long though before I’m interrupted as I’m needed out front to serve customers.

  ‘Sam was querying this delivery in the diary for Sunday. You’ve never asked him to work on Sunday before. He says he doesn’t know anything about it.’ Hazel looks at me with a puzzled expression on her face.

  ‘Yes, it’s … um … a friend. I’ll make the delivery myself, it’s not a problem. Steve is off on a guy’s golfing weekend and it will give me something to do.’ I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks as Hazel looks at me, slightly bemused.

  ‘But that’s a couple of hours’ drive away, at least!’ She exhales, sharply, implying I’m out of my mind. ‘And isn’t that the guy, you know, the one with the little girl?’

  ‘It’ll be a nice trip out and they’re forecasting a sunny weekend. I can stop and have lunch on the way back.’ I ignore her comment about the customer, hoping she’ll drop the subject. I turn to serve the next person waiting in the queue, as she continues talking to me in a low voice.

  ‘Well, at least business is good. It’s great to be so busy, the day simply flies by.’

  I shoot Hazel a questioning glance. Is she still happy working here? Has something changed? When she wakes up each morning does her stomach turn over at the thought of the day, stretching out endlessly ahead of her? I think back to the time when I worked in an office. That soul-destroying commute, followed by a day interspersed with meetings, and an inbox that was always over-flowing.

  ‘Is everything all right?’ The tentative tone in my voice causes Hazel to frown.

  ‘Yes, of course. What are you worrying about now?’ Her emphasis was firmly on the now, and I acknowledge that I have been a little intense lately. The building work has put pressure on us all.

  ‘Nothing, I’m only checking.’

  It’s funny how your mind continues to tick over while you perform a series of tasks. I automatically wrap boxes, give change, and thank people for their custom. In my head I’m comparing life as it is now, to then, when it felt like a desk defined who I was. I was an employee in a job from which my dream rescued me. Unease shifts in my stomach. What’s that all about? Is it a normal reaction to the new pressures of growing the business, or is this about owing Steve money? Ironically it’s added yet one more layer to our already complicated relationship. Yes, we’ve talked things through as honestly as we can, but it feels like we’ve merely applied a sticking plaster for a quick fix. What’s actually needed is a very large bandage. Instead of bringing us together, it’s driving us further apart.

  ‘Can I have six of the purple velvet cupcakes, too?’ The young woman I’m serving leans forward to attract my attention
. I guess that last thought threw me a little and jarred my autopilot mode.

  ‘Of course, they’re one of our best sellers at the moment. I’ll pop in a New York vanilla spice for you, on the house. It’s this month’s new addition to the range.’

  The customer grins back at me and adds, ‘I haven’t tried a Sweet Occasions cake yet that wasn’t truly scrumptious.’

  As I arrange the cupcakes in the box, my thoughts take over once more. This is still my shop. I began this, and I decide what we sell. I’m in control. Taking a deep breath, I relax my shoulders. I smile back, grateful to be reminded what this is all about.

  ‘Thank you for the feedback. Always nice to know what our customers think. Can I quote you on that?’ We laugh good-naturedly as I take the proffered twenty pound note. Mentally I hear a kerr-ching – one more sale towards paying off Steve’s loan.

  Grace

  Harsh Reality

  When the doctor broke the news, I sat there quietly. One half of me was able to accept the inevitable, and the other half wanted to reject it. I shed a few tears, of course, but those were for a future that I wouldn’t see. Missing Adam’s wedding – the one I was confident would still happen before too long – and, one day, Lily’s too.

  I’m eighty years old, what did I expect? I would probably be one hundred years old before my great-granddaughter was ready to walk down the aisle. Growing old isn’t easy, but I never thought I’d want to give up on life. However, since Jack passed over I’m increasingly weary, tired of fighting and pretending all is well. Now I know that a large part of that is down to my heart problems. Inoperable, the doctor said, and I nodded, thinking that everything wears out eventually.

  ‘I will double the dosage on your medication, but the side effects may increase. I want you to have a Medicare home alarm installed. It comes with a pendant to wear around your neck, which activates an alarm when it’s pressed. You are sure about not informing your closest relatives?’

  ‘I’ve had a long and happy life, Doctor Clarke. I have no regrets and when my time is up, it’s up. That, I believe, is down to a much higher authority. If anything happens, I don’t want my relatives having to make tough decisions. I think you know what I’m talking about here.’ My gaze is direct and he shifts in his seat.

  In reality I’m only referring to Adam. I know it’s my own fault, as I’m aware that over the years I’ve pushed people away. Jack and I enjoyed each other’s company, and then when Adam came to live with us … At first it was easier to avoid people, rather than having to deal with their well-meaning sympathy. At that time words didn’t help at all. We were a unit of three, and it was easier to manage our grief when the door was shut, and the world remained firmly outside. I realise Doctor Clarke is talking to me.

  ‘Ah, right. Your records will be noted to reflect your wish. No matter what happens, your family will not be informed of your heart condition. Also, that you do not wish to be resuscitated, should the occasion arise. You can change your mind at any time, simply pick up the phone.’

  ‘Thank you, but my mind is made up.’

  He nods, briefly, then bends his head over my notes as his pen finalises what’s been discussed. Like signing a contract, only this is a contract that will signal the end of my life.

  When Jack appeared to me last night, he was standing in the corner of our bedroom. His presence seemed real; he looked across and smiled at me before he began talking.

  ‘You look worried,’ he’d said, his voice troubled.

  ‘The usual, my dear. I worry so much about Adam. His job is demanding, and the hours he spends on the road when Lily is with her mother, take a toll. He lives out of a suitcase one week out of every two, now. He admits there are times when he’s so exhausted he’s had to pull over and take a nap before finishing his journey. One day he could be in Cornwall, and the next several hundred miles away on the east coast. It’s too much pressure, trying to organise his busy job so that he can be home-based when Lily is with him. He’s the expert everyone wants to call in when their IT systems go down, or they get, what is it? Hacked? The more he does, the more they seem to want him to do. It isn’t fair, and because he feels beholden to them for giving him flexibility, he ignores the risks he’s taking.’

  ‘He’s a sensible and sensitive young man. He’ll work through the problems and begin to realise that his life has to change.’

  ‘I hope so, Jack, I really do.’ My heart felt heavy and it was nothing to do with my health problems.

  ‘Don’t forget it’s the doctor’s tomorrow,’ Jack reminded me, in a matter-of-fact fashion. He was wearing his green sweater, the one I bought for him only a couple of weeks before he died. The one I remember taking to the charity shop. ‘I’m with you every step of the way. I’m keeping my promise, Gracie, so I don’t want you to worry. I’m with you always.’

  I wish I could see this life through Jack’s eyes, as to me it feels like so many things are up in the air – how can I possibly not be worried about the future for Adam and Lily? Adam gave his heart away once and ended up being badly hurt, so now he’s understandably wary. If he meets someone he finds interesting will he hesitate? Because if he does, then he’ll only attract the sort of women who, like Kelly, are prepared to make the first move. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, unless it indicates a desire to exert control. I just want to see Adam with someone who will be an equal partner, a woman who understands that love is all about the giving, and not the taking. I want him to find the one and be sure of that, before I can let go of this life.

  I remember closing my eyes with a smile on my face and sinking into a peaceful sleep. I dreamt I was walking through a wood, dappled light from the sun overhead making it feel enchanted. Twigs snapped beneath my feet and the ground was soft and springy. A carpet of leaves, and moss, making my body feel as light as a feather. My mother appeared. She clasped my hand as she walked alongside me, without saying a word. Suddenly I felt as if I was floating, my feet no longer needing to take each step. It was wonderful and comforting, but first there is important work to be done and I know that she’s only trying to give me the strength to see it through.

  Katie

  Caring Too Much Can Hurt

  I have no idea why I took this order and agreed to deliver the cake in person. Hazel was right to be puzzled by it. Maybe it was the memory of the look on that little girl’s face when she saw the princess cake carried through into the shop. As her eyes lit up, she turned to her dad and proclaimed it was the cake she wanted for her birthday. But that was months ago, and I’m amazed either of them remembered. I’m sure Adam could have found something similar locally, and saved himself a rather large delivery charge. Sometimes people are full of surprises though, and I love customers who are loyal, and come back time and time again. In this particular case, it does rather take loyalty to another level but, at the same time, I do feel extremely flattered.

  I knew Steve would point out how ridiculous it was, but I have nothing to hide and intended to drop it into the conversation at some point. However, when he informed me he had a golfing getaway planned for that weekend, there didn’t seem any point in bringing the matter up. He didn’t ask if I had any plans, so it’s not as if I lied to him.

  He just had the all-clear from his recent battery of tests and, understandably, he’s in a mood to celebrate. I assumed he was planning a weekend away for us. If I’m being honest with myself, it was a bit of a surprise when he’d elaborated.

  ‘You don’t mind, do you?’ He’d sidled up next to me on the sofa and draped his arm around my shoulders. I felt that he was merely trying to avoid an upset. He didn’t seem to be concerned about whether I was disappointed he’d chosen the guys over me.

  ‘You go, and have a wonderful time. Let off a bit of steam, and don’t think about work, or money, or me. Concentrate on having some fun, but go steady on the beers. And don’t get talked into Jägermeister chasers. Remember the last time?’

  His eyes sparkled as he tried to loo
k suitably ashamed. For a moment I saw the ‘old’ Steve, the one I met and fell in love with: boyish, fun and a little unsure of himself.

  ‘Funny how you can forget to pick up my suit from the dry cleaners, but you can’t forget one night of excess. In my defence, it wasn’t my idea.’

  ‘Yes, I bet they all said that when they rolled home to their partners. But you need to take care of yourself, so everything in moderation. Please.’

  He knew I was only thinking about his daily medication, and the fact that his alcohol consumption has to be kept to a minimum. I hoped he wasn’t stupid enough to stop taking it, just so he could party. He wouldn’t do that, would he?

  My eyes scanned his face, wondering what was going on behind that macho façade. Maybe macho was too generic. Maybe the word I was looking for was stern, like a shutter he puts up whenever he wants to hide his real feelings. I began to wonder if he ever truly relaxed any more, or remembered that there was a time when the thought of dying terrified him. We talked openly then, his emotions spilling out of him like a torrent of tears. But he never cried, not once.

  Having seen him through the most vulnerable period in his life, I would never have believed that I could look at him now in such a dispassionate way. I felt strangely detached, as if I didn’t know him at all and was seeing him for the first time. If someone had asked for my first impression at that exact moment, I would have said cold. How very odd, when I’d known his passion and his heartache; held his hand as he cried out in pain. He hadn’t been cold then.

  ‘Sometimes,’ Steve drew the word out, labouring a point, ‘it’s like having a partner and a mother rolled into one. I left home a long time ago, Katie.’

  One second and his mood had changed completely. He pulled away, and I knew then that I’d succeeded in annoying him again. Would he purposely go out with the intention of making it a drunken weekend, simply to prove he could?

  ‘I didn’t mean …’

  ‘… to nag, I think you were going to say. So don’t.’

 

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