Chapter 39
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
The secret to a showstopping cookie bouquet lay in the foundation. All the decorating skills in the world didn’t mean a thing if the base cookies spread or domed on the pan. To achieve clean, accurate shapes, the dough had to be the right consistency, not too crumbly or too sticky. Bake them until just set, no browning on the edges. The trick was getting a dough that not only held a shape but tasted delectable as well. Good thing Lawrence was the undisputed sugar cookie master.
He lined up his cutters next to the rolled sheet of dough. Over the years he’d collected dozens and dozens of cutters, many from Nana. He selected an oval, a square, two different flowers, a book, a Christmas lightbulb, a paintbrush. A heart.
Crouching at the workbench, he got eye level with the rolled dough, verified the height across the near-perfect rectangle. His lower back pinched again as he stood. Although it had improved, it still bothered him off and on. He wore a latex-free glove over his injured hand to keep the fresh bandage in place and avoid contact with the ingredients.
“What’s all this for, boss?” Carmen asked, stopping at the bench, hands full of flat boxes to restock the front counter. After this shift, Sweet L’s would be closed for the next few days for the holiday. Today would be a relatively easy day devoted to customers picking up completed orders. No new baking was on the schedule until Monday.
“Making something I’ve never tried before.”
Carm’s brow crinkled in confusion. “You make sugar cookies all the time.”
“These are special. These are an I’m-sorry-please-forgive-me-I’ll-do-anything-to-make-it-up-to-you apology cookie bouquet.”
“My, my. Well, I hope they turn out.”
“So do I.” Deep in his bones, in the beats of his heart, he wished this creation would impress Elena, soften her. Something for all of her senses, to know how much he cared, how much he ached for her forgiveness. No recipe contained directions for infusing emotion into dough; no ingredient could mimic genuine feeling. For that, he had to rely on the magic that came by making something delicious for someone special, where ingredients and method mixed with the inexplicable so that a cookie could convey as much as any other art form.
“I’m glad to see you looking refreshed, mijo,” Carm said, backing into the swinging door to go out front.
Last night his body had given up when his mind wouldn’t, forcing him to sleep in spite of himself. He couldn’t sleep in his bed, since his pillows smelled like Elena’s shampoo, but he’d gotten decent rest on the sofa, even through Sugar’s snores. Morning brought excitement; Nana would come home tomorrow, in time for Christmas Eve. Today he could go to his happy place to make Elena the most spectacular cookies on earth. Didn’t hurt either that he’d finally showered and eaten a full meal.
While the cookies baked, he got to work on the royal icing. Powdered sugar, meringue powder, water. Simple ingredients, but he varied the ratio to make multiple consistencies for different decorating techniques. Thin to flood the shapes with background color, medium for boarders and letters, and stiff for three-dimensional elements.
Out front, Carm powered on the sound system, and he heard an orchestra begin the Nutcracker Suite . He spun from oven to workbench to pantry shelves, stepping over a snoozing Sugar, who had stretched as much out of the office as she dared to reach the kitchen’s warmth. Unperturbed by baking sounds and Lawrence’s movements, Sugar dreamed away, paws twitching.
He kept his gel food dyes, sanding sugars, sprinkles, edible glitter, and gold flakes in a tackle box. The box rattled when he plopped it on the bench. Mixing icings had a lot in common with mixing paint. He divided the royal icing into multiple glass bowls, then used toothpicks to add dots of food coloring until he had a color scheme he hoped Elena would find pleasing. Gold, pale pink, sky blue, rich green, ivory.
Once the cookies had cooled completely, the fun could begin. He filled icing bag after icing bag with a medium consistency in each color, then piped borders on all the cookies. Next came the waiting. Wait, wait, wait, all the while tempted to bite his nails as the borders dried. When he felt confident the borders were secure, he filled more bags with the thinnest icing. He flooded the surface of the cookies, tapping them until the icing looked smooth as glass.
“Nice start,” Carm said, peering around him to get a look. “What are you going to do while the flood dries?
Drying the flood layer could take hours. Crucial hours. The icing flood had to be set to make the decor details stand out, to keep the different icing colors from melting together into a swampy mess.
“Probably panic that she’s going to throw these right straight in the trash. I hope I’m making the right choice spending the day doing this and not hunting down a new phone to call her.”
“I know your decorated sugar cookies are worth the twenty-four-hour wait. Let her worry a little too, mijo.”
“What does she have to worry about?”
“Come on, now, you weren’t the only one who behaved badly. A little time to cool off will be good for both of you.”
Lawrence had reached the point where he would gladly accept one hundred percent of the blame in exchange for five minutes with Elena. Carmen could be right, though; Elena might be more receptive once she’d had sufficient opportunity to miss him. A dangerous game of chicken he would have to white-knuckle his way through.
Unwilling to wait too long for the flood to dry, he lugged the fan they used during the summer from its place in the supply closet. He dusted it clean, then set it on full blast aimed at the cookies to speed the process. To keep himself sane during the delay, he went to the front to help Carm fulfill orders.
“You going to be at the tree lighting tomorrow night?” Pamela asked when she arrived to fetch her order.
“Yes, ma’am,” Lawrence said, handing Pamela a box filled with peppermint biscotti and delicate pizzelle. If everything went according to plan, he would be there, and he wouldn’t be alone. Best not to let Pamela know his intentions, because then Mom would know, then Nana, then the whole town.
He felt slightly confident his plan would work, but not confident enough to have everyone in New Hope staring at him on Christmas Eve. Potentially witnessing his utter humiliation. Best to keep everything close to the chest for the time being.
The next several hours offered a welcome break from obsessing about Elena while he and Carm rang up order after order. From nine AM to two PM , they didn’t have a second to catch their breath. If they weren’t boxing up orders, they were accepting payment or filling coffee cups. Carm had stocked the bakery case full with impulse cookies, and customers who didn’t want to wait until the holiday for something sweet ordered cookies for the road. Even without the magazine contest prize money, he might be able to pay January’s rent. And who knew what the New Year would bring? Maybe good things, maybe the best things.
“Boss, I need to tell you something,” Carm said as Lawrence locked the front door. The rush of customers had subsided a couple of minutes ago, and now they were done for the day. Carm was, at least; Lawrence would stay to finish the cookie bouquet.
“Sure thing,” he said. Carm’s tone let him know she had something important on her mind, so he held off on washing down the front counters, gave her his full attention.
“You know how much I love working here, right?”
Oh no, here it came. The moment he’d been fearing.
“I do, Carm. And you’re awesome at your job.”
“Working here makes me really happy, but …” Carm straightened a pile of paper order forms that didn’t need it. She didn’t meet his eyes, kept looking down at the papers.
“But,” he said, prompting her to continue.
“But I’m not as young as I once was, and these grandkids, they take it out of me. My Isabel and her husband still haven’t been able to find reliable care for them. And we don’t want them to grow up spending half their time with strangers.” Again she paused, tapped the papers on the counter to line them up.
Lawrence had been dreading this for so long it felt surreal. And yet he didn’t feel as petrified as he’d feared. An unexpected calm bolstered him. He felt he would be able to handle the bakery in Carm’s absence. Remembering Nana’s encouragement to trust himself more, he tried to hone in on the belief he’d be all right, no matter what life threw at him.
“Spending time with them is more important than anything else,” he said. “Can you imagine where I’d be without Nana?”
At this Carm gave him a wan smile. “It doesn’t have to be right away, you know. I want to give you plenty of time. As much as I hate to say this, I think you need to start looking for someone to take my place.”
“No one can take your place, Carm. You’ve put up with me from day one.”
“We’ve had fun, mijo,” Carm said, putting her arm around him.
“We have. Don’t forget the employee discount is a lifetime discount. You better come see me all the time. And bring the little ones too.”
“I wouldn’t take them anywhere else. Except for one visit to Sparkle Cookie. We should still come tomorrow, right?”
“You absolutely should.”
“It’s going to work out, boss. I can feel it in my bones.”
“Well then, it’s as good as done.”
Carm went through the swinging door to the kitchen, tossed her apron in the hamper for the linen service. Lawrence didn’t let himself wonder when the last time Carm wore the Sweet L’s apron would be. He stayed brave for her. Carm gave Sugar a belly rub and then wished Lawrence a merry Christmas before leaving.
He stood alone with his uncertainty—the unknowns about the bakery, about Nana’s recovery, about Elena. He made himself reflect on it all until he felt certain he could face it, that he wanted to try even if it would be difficult.
“What do you say, Sugar? Should I get to work on the decorating?” Sugar rolled on her back, paid him no mind. “Aw, you know you miss her too. Let’s make her the most spectacular cookies she’s ever seen.”