The Bakeshop at Pumpkin and Spice

by Donna Kauffman

  “Thank Sofia, too,” he said. “She chose the Italian cookies for us.”

  Lara shifted on her chair. She glanced over her shoulder and caught the bakery owner’s eye. Lara kissed her fingertips in appreciation. Sofia winked at her as she filled the display case with mini custard cream puffs and chocolate ganache éclairs.

  Jack’s wristwatch gave a soft beep. “My programmed alarm,” he told her. “Coffee break’s over. I allow twenty minutes. It’s time to return to the courthouse. My office is suddenly overseeing the Halloween festivities and it’s a bit of a madhouse.” He scratched his head. “Not sure how that happened, but it happened. The door now revolves with people offering ideas and suggestions. Committee members have taken over my conference room. My staff is inundated with extra work. All administrative duties and town development are temporarily on hold.”

  He finished off his coffee, noted, “We have a parade policy: Those who want to participate will participate. No one gets left out. It’s about fitting them all in, and keeping everyone happy.”

  Lara understood. The small-town parade was inclusive. Parents pushed strollers with their costumed babies and toddlers took baby steps along the route. The parade stretched for six blocks, but often lasted several hours. It moved slowly.

  “It’s a huge job,” she agreed. “You have your hands full.”

  The mayor rested his elbows on the table, leaned toward her. He lowered his voice and drafted his thoughts aloud. He had numerous concerns. Lara became his sounding board. “The biggest issue at the moment is who gets to lead the parade? Should it be the Halloween-themed floats or those floats advertising local businesses? The hay rides? Edward Daniels of Daniels Excavating wants to decorate and drive a compact tractor. Then there’s the individual masqueraders, pumpkin jugglers, garage musicians, high school band. The costumed pets.”

  Lara always enjoyed the dogs, occasional cat, and the kindergarten classroom rabbit dressed for Halloween. She recalled a bichon frise outfitted as a ballerina in a pink tutu and ballet slippers on her paws. A Great Dane turned out as Superman, his cape flapping on the breeze. A tiger cat wore a lion’s mane. A guinea pig was a bumblebee. The animals always received the loudest cheers and applause. They were Lara’s favorite part of the parade.

  “Then there’s Parker Price,” he confided. “He has an enormous Mickey Mouse pumpkin-faced helium balloon. He’s assured me it’s not as large as a Macy’s Day Parade character, but would still need handlers. Five to be exact. A possible closure to the parade. I’m not certain such a balloon could float safely along the main route. They’d have to navigate a corner.”

  She sympathized. “You have lots of decisions to make.”

  “That I do.” His brow creased. “Sorry, I got carried away. I didn’t mean to unload on you.” He paused. His gaze warmed. “You’re a good listener.”

  “The parade interests me.” But then so did the mayor, Lara realized. She’d enjoyed talking with him. He cared about the parade and would work hard to satisfy the participants. She wrapped up with, “Have a nice rest of the day.” He had a lot to accomplish.

  “You too. Hopefully yours will improve.”

  “I’m hoping so,” she said on a sigh. “Job hunting is at the top of my list.” Full-time, well-paying employment would save her apartment.

  Jack slowly rose and stared down at her. His expression shifted from courteous to contemplative. He lowered his voice and said, “Should you have time later, stop by the courthouse and let me know if you’ve found a job.”

  She appreciated his concern. “I can do that.”

  She pushed off her chair and stood, too. Just as a renewed surge of customers entered the bakeshop. Moonbright had a sweet tooth. Lara was accidentally bumped, and she fell against Jack. The mayor steadied her. His hand on her shoulder was supportive and strong. The warmth of his palm penetrated her sweater. He guided her to the front door. His staff awaited him outside on the sidewalk. On the corner of Pumpkin Lane and Spice Street. Lara recognized four of the five. The women were middle-aged, long-time residents, and loyal employees at the courthouse. Nods and smiles were exchanged.

  The fifth was pretty and younger, someone Lara had yet to meet. For casual Friday she wore a white T-shirt with a Halloween question and answer scripted in bright orange. The joke made Lara smile.

  Where does Dracula water-ski?

  On Lake Erie.

  Jack noticed her interest in the shirt. “Lara, Paula,” he introduced the two women. “Paula attends the University of New England in Biddeford. A political science major.”

  “I’m taking off the fall semester,” Paula explained. “Tuition is steep, and I need to earn money for the winter session.”

  She was ambitious, Lara thought.

  “Paula’s a full-time file clerk,” Jack added. “She splits her hours between clerk of the court and my office.”

  “The day goes fast,” said Paula. “I’m always busy. Never bored. We’re presently swamped with parade strategizing.”

  “We’d better get going,” Jack nudged. “I have a meeting with the city council in fifteen minutes. Later, Lara?”

  She nodded. They parted ways. She stared after them. Jack looked back over his shoulder. Their glances met, and her body heated. One corner of his mouth tipped up. She gave him a small smile.

  Lara watched the courthouse crew until they reached the end of the block, then crossed to the administrative building. Constructed in gray brick, the 1889 town landmark had aged gracefully. The two-story structure had weathered the harsh northern winters. The clock tower created a solid sense of place and presence. With the addition of an electronic carillon, the enormous Seth Thomas clock rang on the hour. Everyone knew the time.

  She stood quietly, deep in thought, and mentally debated where to begin her job search. There were no big chain department stores in Moonbright. Not even ones nearby. The majority of businesses were small and family owned. There was a slight chance that Amelia Rose at Rose Cottage might have an opening. The bed-and-breakfast hosted the largest and best Halloween party in town. It started at five and went to the witching hour. Both locals and guests at the inn showed up in costume. It was an incredible night. The B and B was at full occupancy year-round. There was seldom a vacancy. At Halloween, the waiting list filled a notebook.

  Deciding that Rose Cottage was worth a try, she squared her shoulders and buttoned her outer cardigan. Then headed north on Pumpkin Lane, passing the redbrick storefronts. The summer awnings would soon be detached in preparation for the severe winter ahead. The sidewalk soon narrowed. A strong breeze pushed fall toward winter. It shook some of the leaves from the trees. The branches weren’t yet bare. But close to it. Those leaves remaining were dark orange and crinkled brown. She inhaled the faint wafting smoke from across the street, as a homeowner burned a pile of the fallen leaves.

  The cottage soon welcomed her. Lara had attended the Halloween party the previous year. Ghostly and creepy would take over the inn before long. Both inside and out. Hellhounds and headstones would haunt the yard. An enormous black inflatable spider would spin a web on the roof.

  Spooky sneaked inside as well. There’d be life-size skeletons and scarecrows propped against the walls. Bouquets of black roses. A haunted grandfather clock. On the hour, the hands spun wildly. Mechanized cackling witches would fly on broomsticks across the ceiling. Banshees wailed. A ghoulish buffet, scary music, and empty creaking rocking chair all set the mood.

  Lara hoped to attend the party again this year. As it was a gathering of singles, couples, and families, she didn’t mind going alone. Most importantly, she would need to locate a costume. Charade was the local costume shop and offered every outfit imaginable. She’d previously attended as Wilma Flintstone. This year, perhaps the Queen of Hearts, currently showcased in the store window. It was sexy and daring.

  She’d stood before the window and admired the red velvet corset constructed with boning and support like old-fashioned royal dresses. A short gold
brocade skirt worn over a black gauze petticoat added a sassy modern twist. It sported a black lace train, an elaborate choker with a faux gem heart pendant, and a heart motif, all topped off by a red velvet crown edged in gold.

  The Queen costume took her outside of herself and into Wonderland. An escape from reality. But the costume was expensive. It would be a major splurge should it come in her size. The one in the window fit a petite mannequin. Lara had curves. She hoped the costume would stretch. Just a little.

  Her thoughts walked her along the cobblestone path that led to the front porch of Rose Cottage. She took the wide, wooden steps to the front door. It swung open before she could knock. She faced the proprietress, Amelia Rose, a lovely older lady who was rumored to possess a psychic sense. The years accumulated but never seemed to touch her. She appeared youthful, ageless, and was always welcoming. Lara felt an affinity with her.

  She admired Amelia now. Her long, braided hair was the same soft gray as her eyes. Attired in a black velvet blazer, ivory lace blouse, and a cranberry gauze skirt, she had her own unique style. Elaborate crystal earrings hung at her ears. The thin gold chains on her three-tiered necklace sparkled with rhinestones and mirrored discs. Hammered gold rings circled each finger and thumb. Gypsy-charming, Lara thought.

  Amelia was first to speak. She smiled warmly. “I saw you coming up the pathway. Please come in.” She ushered Lara inside.

  The cottage was spectacular. The décor merged past and present, and brought out the best in both. An Oriental rug done in a plum, navy, and cream geometric pattern pulled the richness of the antique furniture together. A turn-of-the-century collection of satin and velvet upholstered chairs blended with brocade sofas.

  Amelia studied her closely. “Can I offer you something to drink? Decaf coffee or green tea?” she asked.

  Lara hesitated, but declined. “I recently had coffee, a cupcake, and cookies at the bakeshop.”

  “A nice way to start your morning. I often purchase an assortment of Sofia’s scones for my guests. Delicious additions to our daily brunch.”

  “Have you ever had her Italian iced cookies with sprinkles?”

  Amelia was thoughtful. “No, can’t say that I have. But they sound delicious. Magic tasting.” She motioned toward the glassed-in sunroom. “Come sit. Let’s visit. I sense you have something on your mind.” She was intuitive.

  Sunshine gleamed on the green wicker furniture, potted plants, and a bookcase stocked with novels, decks of cards, and family board games. Amelia chose a fanback chair and Lara relaxed on a rocker with a red rose needlepoint cushion.

  She set the rocking chair in motion and got right to the point. “I hate to impose, but I’m looking for work. I’m capable, dependable, and need full-time employment.”

  Amelia clasped her hands on her lap and gently asked, “You’re leaving Keepsake Antiques?”

  “Not willingly,” Lara admitted. “Business is slow now, and will only slow down further during the winter.”

  Amelia was sympathetic. “I’m sorry to hear that.” She leaned toward Lara and lightly touched her on the arm. “I’m not prying, but I sense there’s more, dear.”

  Lara hadn’t planned to go into detail about being dumped by her boyfriend and possibly losing her apartment. A lump rose in her throat when she relived her morning. She finished with, “I’m resourceful and will work through it. You’re my initial stop.” Her first hope of employment.

  Amelia squeezed her elbow, drew back. “I wish I could help you, but I have nothing to offer at this time. I have two employees who’ve been with me for twenty years. They are loyal and reliable, and I’ve no reason to believe they won’t be here another twenty.”

  Lara nodded. “I understand. I appreciate your time.”

  “You might check with my goddaughter Grace at Charade,” Amelia suggested. “She has an established clientele that extends beyond Halloween.”

  “I’ll stop by. Thanks.”

  Amelia walked her to the door and gave her a reassuring hug. “You’ll find work,” she said confidently. “Right place, right time, right offer.”

  Lara left Rose Cottage and headed south on Pumpkin Lane, back in the direction from which she’d come. Defeat edged her mind. But those thoughts were soon followed by the recollection of Jack Hanson, and the coffee and cookies they’d shared. He’d been encouraging. Positive. Her mood improved. Greatly.

  Several blocks later, she entered Charade, a costume shop for all reasons and seasons. The store held wall-to-wall racks of hanging costumes and shelved accessories. A world of make-believe surrounded her. Several customers were trying on outfits, then admiring themselves in three-way mirrors outside the dressing rooms. Lara stood on tiptoe and located Grace Alden behind the checkout counter. The brunette promoted Halloween by wearing a spandex printed glow-in-the-dark skeleton catsuit. Petite and slender, she had the body for it.

  Lara maneuvered around a cowboy, ballerina, and steampunk sky-pirate to reach the store owner. She stood quietly, patiently waiting for Grace to ring up a sale.

  Once the sale was complete, Grace turned to her. “Hello, Lara, what can I do for you? Are you here to try on a costume?”

  “No costume at the moment,” Lara explained. “I’m”—she drew a breath—“seeking employment.”

  “I see,” from Grace. She leaned a hip against the counter, crossed her arms over her chest, thoughtful. “The store is pretty well-staffed. Although I could add a part-time evening sales clerk from now until Halloween.”

  Part-time wouldn’t pay her bills. She passed on Grace’s kind offer. “Thank you, but I need full-time work.” Especially if she wanted to buy the Queen of Hearts costume.

  “You might try the drugstore next door,” Grace went on to suggest. “Harold Morgan had a HELP WANTED sign in the front window. I have no idea what the job entails.”

  “Thanks.” A lead was a lead. “By the way, I love the Queen of Hearts outfit on display.”

  “A special order. It’s one of a kind. The queen of Wonderland was a tyrant, but the costume is to die for. It will take a curvy woman to pull it off. You’d be the perfect person. Wear it and write your own story.” Grace went on to offer, “Want to try it on? See how it fits? I rent many of my costumes, but I’d prefer to sell the Queen outright. If you’re interested, I could save it for you.”

  Lara sadly shook her head. “No guarantee I could afford it,” she replied honestly. “Depends on my job hunt.”

  A woman approached the counter with a Wonder Woman costume in hand. Lara recognized her as a nurse from the hospital. They exchanged smiles and a short conversation. Lara soon departed.

  On her way out of the store she took a moment to flip through the hangers, considering alternate costumes should she not be able to come up with the money for the Queen of Hearts. A red satin fringed flapper dress was an option, as was a white angel gown with a gold halo and sparkling silver wings.

  Minutes later she was back out on the sidewalk. An alley separated Charade and Morgan’s Apothecary. The drugstore had opened its doors in 1920. Family owned and operated, it hadn’t changed much, according to the town’s history. Harold Morgan, the third-generation pharmacist, filled prescriptions and catered to all customers, no matter their age.

  Business the old-fashioned way worked in present-day Moonbright. The front window showcased a tower of stacked vitamins and supplements, children’s games and toys, locally made treats—benne wafers, taffy, and lemon biscuits—as well as specialty bath and body products. The store owner was faithful to his elderly female customers and did his best to keep them happy. He continued to stock their favorite retro perfumes—Emeraude, Tabu, Chantilly, Moon Drops, along with their preferred Mavis talcum powder and Bigelow Rose Wonder facial creams. Items the ladies refused to live without.

  The HELP WANTED sign hung in one corner, visible to passersby. Lara entered the drugstore, equally apprehensive and hopeful. Once inside, she was greeted by the original glass cabinets and white and blue cerami
c tiles. She was a regular on Wednesdays, taking her lunch hour at the old-fashioned soda fountain. She always ordered the $2.99 midweek special, a white American grilled cheese sandwich and an egg cream soda.

  She slowly wandered back toward the raised pharmacy, which was fronted by glass. The two-step elevation allowed the pharmacist a good view of the retail floor. Harold was on the phone. He held up one finger, indicating that he would be with her momentarily. A revolving rack of greeting cards stood adjacent to the counter. She scanned the selection. Those with Congratulations on Your New Job! caught her eye. She would buy and send herself such a card if she found employment.

  Harold soon wrapped up his call. He came to the pharmacy consultation window. He was a tall man with brown hair, even features, and a compassionate nature. “Hello, Lara,” he said with a welcoming smile. “How can I help you?”

  She was direct. “The HELP WANTED sign in the window. Have you hired someone?”

  He shook his head. “Not yet. Are you asking for yourself or for someone else?” He sounded curious.

  She hesitated, suddenly unwilling to fully commit. “Asking in general.” She’d get the particulars and then decide if the job was for her or not.

  “I’m still interviewing,” he told her. He opened a drawer beneath the counter and withdrew a stack of applications. “I’ve been swamped with candidates. I’m in need of a morning stock and inventory person who can shift to the soda fountain from noon to close. Someone versatile and personable. Someone who likes ice cream but doesn’t eat my profits.” He quoted a salary that she could live with.

  Here was employment she could easily handle. She was about to ask if he would mind adding one more application to the pile when a young man entered the pharmacy. She recognized Nate Harper. He was a recent graduate of Southern Maine Community College. He’d returned to town with a two-year business degree and a fiancée.