From Scratch

by Gail Anderson-Dargatz

  “You’re a wise woman, Eva,” Diana said. “I wouldn’t want to put myself in that position either. Not a good way to start a relationship.”

  “How about you then?” Lucy asked Diana. “Can you give her a loan?”

  “I wouldn’t want to owe a friend either,” I said.

  “Don’t think of it like that,” said Lucy. “Diana would invest in your business. You would make money here in the bakery. Diana would get her share, based on how much money she put into the business.”

  Diana shook her head. “Like I told Eva, I barely have enough to retire. I may even be looking for work myself down the road.”

  “I’d invest in your business if I had any money,” said Lucy.

  I smiled sadly. “Thanks, Lucy. That’s kind of you to say.”

  “I’m serious,” she said. “I’ve been coming to this bakery for years. And I’ve been watching you, Eva. You’re a smart cookie.” She laughed at her own pun. She knew Murray and almost all the regulars called me Cookie. “You could run this place as well as Diana. Better.”

  “Hey!” Diana said, grinning.

  “No offense,” said Lucy. “I just think this bakery could use a new owner. Someone to put energy into it, freshen up the place. I know Eva would do that.”

  “You’re right, Lucy,” Diana said. “She would.”

  “A community needs a business like this one,” said Lucy. “Attract enough customers with this bakery, and other business owners would want to open their stores here too. Close the bakery down, and the last of the businesses here are likely to close too. We’d lose the heart of our village. People will start to move away.”

  I hadn’t thought of it like that. I knew our customers wouldn’t have a place to meet once the bakery closed. But I hadn’t thought about how much the community would lose once this bakery was gone. Keeping it alive suddenly wasn’t just a personal dream. I needed to find a way to reopen the bakery here, not just for Katie and me, but for this community.

  Seven

  At supper that night I took the problem to my daughter. “I’m so sorry I can’t buy the bakery right now,” I said. “I saw how excited you were about the idea.” I took her hand. “But I’m not giving up. I’m going to open my own bakery-café right where Diana’s bakery is now. I don’t care how long it takes. I just don’t know how I’m going to do it.”

  “Do what you always do,” Katie said. “Bake from scratch.”

  “I’m not following.”

  “Diana’s bakery is like a packaged cake mix. All the hard work is done for you. If you had the money, you wouldn’t have to do much to reopen the bakery.”

  “But I don’t have the money.”

  “So you start from scratch. All you really need is a kitchen. And a few supplies. You don’t need a storefront. Just sell your baked goods at the farmers’ market.”

  “I won’t make enough money if I only sell at the market, especially if I want to open a bakery.” I looked around the room. “This kitchen is too small, in any case. The government also has rules about selling food made in a home kitchen. They’ll only let you do that if you sell at a farmers’ market. I need a big commercial kitchen if I’m going to sell anywhere else.”

  “Then you find a kitchen you can rent.”

  I thought for a moment. “There’s that pizza joint on the highway. They only open afternoons and evenings. Maybe I could rent their commercial kitchen mornings. Or there’s that Greek restaurant on the way into town. Churches often have commercial kitchens for rent. So do recreation centers and even golf clubs.”

  “I’ve got a better idea,” said Katie. “The community hall is just up the road. It has a big commercial kitchen. It would be free during the week. Probably most weekends too. There aren’t many events there anymore.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “And renting the hall kitchen would likely cost much less than the other places.” I grabbed a notepad and scribbled Hall.

  “We could sell at that indoor farmers’ market in town. It runs most of the year.”

  “The pie shop in town also sells pies in grocery stores,” I said. “I could take samples of our cookies to supermarkets and restaurants and see if they would sell them.”

  “Yes!” Katie leaned forward, excited. “You remember that fundraiser the school put on? We sold frozen cookie dough. The school made a ton of money with that one. People like to bake their own cookies, but they don’t have time to make the dough. Why not sell cookie dough? Then all people have to do is bake the stuff.”

  “I really like that idea.” I thought for a moment. “I would need different containers, small buckets for the dough.”

  “No problem,” said Katie. “I can order them online.”

  “And we would need a freezer. But there is a big freezer at the community hall.” I wrote down our ideas. This would be the start of my new business plan. I glanced up at Katie. “This might work,” I said.

  “So what are you going to call this business?”

  “Isn’t that obvious?” I said. “Cookie’s Dough.”

  “Hah!” Katie laughed. “I like it. I hope you make lots of dough with Cookie’s Dough.”

  “I hope so too. I’ll need a pile of cash to reopen the bakery-café.” I tapped my pencil on the pad of paper. “So how are we going to get the word out? We’ll need to promote the business. Can you set up a Facebook page for Cookie’s Dough?”

  “Of course! But my own teacher says the best way to promote a restaurant is by word of mouth. She told us to focus on the quality of the food. If your food is really good, people will tell other people about your business. And Mom, your cookies are great. We just have to offer people samples, and the cookies will sell themselves. Let’s start with the college. You can offer students a cookie. Once they taste one, I know they’ll want to buy the cookie dough.”

  I scribbled all that down. “Okay. I think we have a plan. My first step is to rent the hall kitchen. I’ll only be able to make cookies during evenings in the first few months. I’m finishing my course and working mornings at that donut shop starting next week. But maybe once the cookies really start to sell, I can afford to make cookies full-time. I know the rental rates at the community hall are reasonable.”

  “Murray is in charge of hall rentals, isn’t he?”

  “Oh no! You’re right! I don’t think I can face Murray. He asked me out today.”

  “Murray asked you out? That’s awesome, Mom!”

  “I said no. I embarrassed him in front of everyone.”

  “Oh, Mom, why? He’s such a nice guy.”

  “I know. It wasn’t him. Or…it was in a way. He’s handsome. He’s successful. He has his own business and a really great house. What’s he going to think of me? I rent. In a week, I’ll have to work in a donut shop to pay the bills.”

  “Murray likes you, Mom. He doesn’t care what you do for a job.”

  “But what if he gets to know me better and doesn’t like me after all?”

  Katie paused to think for a moment. “You’ve liked Murray for a long time.”

  I nodded. I’d had a crush on Murray for years.

  “You’ve hung on to that dream of him, that fantasy of him, for a long time. Maybe you’re afraid of losing that dream? Afraid of getting hurt?”

  I looked up at my daughter. “How’d you get to be so smart?” I asked.

  “I take after my mother.” Then she thought some more. “It’s the same with running your own bakery, isn’t it? You’ve dreamed of that for a long time. But you’re afraid that if you fail—”

  I finished her sentence. “I won’t have that to dream about anymore either. You’re right, Katie. I’m afraid to try. I’m afraid to fail.”

  “But if you don’t try, you’ll never make that dream happen. You won’t have your own business.” She paused. “Or Murray.”

  “But I am scared. What if my cookie business doesn�
�t work out? What if I make cookie dough and no one buys it?”

  “So we eat a lot of cookies,” said Katie. “Or we give them away.”

  “But I can’t afford to lose the money I would spend on all those baking supplies. And you would have dropped your course for nothing.”

  “Mom, who doesn’t like cookies? You aren’t going to lose money. You’ll make lots of dough. Get it?”

  “Yeah yeah, I got the joke the first time,” I said. My daughter and her awful puns. But she was right. I had to try, or I wouldn’t make my dream happen. I wanted to run my own bakery business, even if that meant starting out small at first. I also wanted to get to know Murray better. I just hoped I hadn’t already messed that up.

  “And listen, Mom, I’m in. I want to run this business with you, even if it’s just a home-based business at first.”

  “Really?”

  “I’m going to drop another course so I have the time to bake.”

  “No, Katie. You can’t drop any more classes.”

  “Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll make up the courses later. I may even be able to earn credit from working with you. My cooking course is a co-op program. We get credit for working at cafés and bakeries. That means my work counts as a course toward finishing the program. Either way, right now we’ve got to get this business going. We can use the money from my dropped courses to buy supplies. You won’t need much to get things going if you rent the commercial kitchen at the hall.”

  “You really think we can make a go of it?”

  “Yes! And it won’t be long before you can open your bakery-café.”

  “All right,” I said. “Let’s do this.” Then I laughed at myself. “You know what I’m most frightened of at the moment?”

  “Stepping out on your own?”

  I shook my head. “Facing Murray.”

  Eight

  I stood at Murray’s front door, trying to work up the courage to knock. His truck was in the yard, so I knew he was home. I had botched things so badly when he asked me out that I really didn’t want to face him. He wouldn’t want to see me either. I was certain of it. He hadn’t returned to the bakery, even on closing day. What was I doing here? I turned to walk away, clutching the small bucket I had brought for him.

  But then Murray opened the door. “Eva!” he called after me. “I heard you drive up. Did you want something?”

  “No, I—” I stared at the small white bucket in my hands, embarrassed that he had caught me slinking away. Finally I just held out my gift. “I brought you something.”

  He took the bucket from me. “What’s this?”

  “Cookie dough,” I said. “For my oatmeal doily cookies. Enough for a couple of batches. You can store it in your freezer. I figured you’d want a supply now that the bakery has closed.”

  “That was kind of you,” he said, but he didn’t invite me in. “I’m sorry to see the bakery go. It was my second home.”

  “I wish your last visit there had been… happier,” I said.

  “Yes, well…” He fiddled with the handle on the bucket as we stood in silence. Then he pointed a thumb back inside the house. “I should get back to work. Thanks for this.” He started to close the door.

  But I had come this far. I took a step forward. “I understand you’re the person to talk to about renting the hall.”

  Murray turned back to me, still holding the door. “Ah, I see. That’s why you’re here.” He looked a little annoyed, but nodded. “Yes, I handle the hall rentals.”

  “I’d like a long-term rental. I imagine I’ll have to sign a contract.” I paused. “May I come in?”

  “Yes. Yes, of course.”

  I followed him into his kitchen. The house was small but bright. Even though he ran his antique business from his house, he kept things tidy. I saw a long work table in the next room, covered in neat piles of boxes. There he packaged the antiques that he shipped to customers by courier. He sold everything online, through his website.

  “I suppose I should offer you coffee and some of these cookies,” he said.

  “That only seems fair. I served you all those years.” I grinned to make it clear I was joking, but he still didn’t smile.

  I sat on a stool at the counter as he poured us each a cup of coffee. Then he turned on the oven and opened the bucket of cookie dough. “I do love these cookies,” he said as he spooned the dough onto a cookie sheet. “I’ll buy more dough, if you’re selling.”

  “Actually, that’s why I want to rent the community hall. I’m going into business for myself, making cookie dough for sale. I understand the hall has a licensed commercial kitchen.”

  Murray sat with me as he waited for the oven to heat. “Yes, the kitchen is government inspected and certified. One woman ran evening cooking classes there last year. Another operated a catering business from the hall until she could afford to lease a place of her own.”

  “I want to start up my cookie-dough business there.” I patted the bucket of cookie dough. “I’ll sell frozen cookie dough as well as baked cookies.”

  “It’s a good idea. You can sign the rental agreement today.” He paused. “You may still need a permit to cook at the hall. And do you have a business license?”

  I felt my shoulders sag. “Yet another thing to think about!” I said.

  “No matter what kind of business you start, you have to look into government licenses and permits.”

  “I know, I know.” I had seen Diana’s business license and the health inspector’s permit on the bakery wall.

  “There are other things you’ll have to check into as well. I had to register the name of my business through a government website. I also arranged for business insurance with a local broker.”

  “Starting a business is just so complicated!” I said, throwing up my hands.

  “Life is complicated,” he said, and he gave me a wounded look. I realized then just how much I had hurt him. And for no good reason. I really liked Murray. I had rejected him only because I didn’t believe in myself.

  Another uncomfortable silence stretched out between us. Finally I broke the ice. “Listen, I want to apologize for how I treated you the other day. I embarrassed you in front of everyone at the bakery.”

  “What do you expect me to say?” Murray asked.

  “I know I hurt you.”

  “I get it. You’re not interested in me. You don’t have to bring it up again.”

  I took a deep breath to brace myself. “The truth is, I would love to have supper with you. The other day, I was just feeling—”

  “Scared?”

  I nodded, laughing a little. “Terrified, actually.”

  He finally smiled, and I felt relieved. “Me too!” he said. “I’ve wanted to ask you out for a long time. But I could never work up the nerve. When Diana said she was closing the bakery, I figured I’d better ask before I lost my chance.”

  “I’m so sorry. You caught me off guard, asking me in front of everyone like that.”

  Murray nodded. “I should have waited until closing time, after they left.”

  “There was a bigger problem,” I admitted. “I just couldn’t figure out why you’d be interested in me. I thought once you really got to know me—”

  “Oh, Eva, you’re a bright spot in my life, just as you were for all the people who came into Diana’s bakery. Don’t you know that?”

  “I was only doing my job.”

  “You did so much more. There’s a lot of lonely people in the community. Old people without family, like Lucy. People like me, who have lost someone they loved. You always made time to chat. I can’t tell you what a difference your kindness made in my life. It got me through a hard time after my wife died.”

  I grew shy again.

  Murray sat back. “I’ve said too much.”

  “No, it’s fine. I’m flattered. I just didn’t think I was doing anything special.”r />
  “That’s what makes you wonderful.” He took my hand. “And Eva, after all these years, I do know you. And I’m very interested.” He paused as he took in my expression. “Now I have said too much.”

  I smiled, but he was right. His attention did made me shy. I changed the subject. “Do you think I could start using the hall this weekend? I’d like to work on my recipes for frozen cookie dough.”

  “No one else is renting it. You can start first thing in the morning, if you like. I have the spare key here.” He pulled the key from a small rack by the door and gave it to me. “Tell me more about this business of yours. How will you sell your cookie dough?”

  “I can’t afford a storefront like Diana’s—at least, not right away. I’m hoping to sell cookies and dough by word of mouth. I’ll offer samples at the farmers’ market and the college to start. Maybe I can get my frozen dough into a few grocery stores and cafés in town. Eventually, I hope to get orders from other businesses, say, for conferences and events.”

  “Like the children’s festival they hold in town in the summer.”

  “Yes.”

  “Have you thought about running an online bakery?”

  “I’m not sure what that is.”

  “You know I run an online antique business. Same thing. You sell your cookie dough from a website on the Internet. You might sell just one or two tubs of cookie dough to people like me or Lucy. Or you might sell in bulk to businesses buying cookies for employees.”

  “Or, like I said, for events like business conferences.”

  “Exactly. I use couriers to ship my stock. I imagine you would deliver your cookies and dough to your customers yourself.”

  “That’s my plan.”

  “No matter how you sell your baked goods, you’ll need a website. A website is an online storefront. People can see what you sell and place orders on the site.”

  “I have no idea how to make a website.”

  “But I do. I made my own. There are many online companies now that make it easy. I could probably pull a website together for you this weekend.”