9. Faye
9
FAYE
“Thank you.” Faye smiled at the young couple who took their doughnuts from her stall and disappeared into the crowd.
The Christmas market was alive; the busiest it’s ever been in Baked By The Dozen ’s few years of participation, and a treasure trove for a Christmas fanatic. There were so many stalls that Faye hoped to find a minute to wander, most of them were small businesses selling crafts and homewares, along with clothes and festive decorations.
Now that she was going to Bash’s family home for Christmas, she thought she should find a couple of gifts for his parents to thank them. What to get would be a wild stab in the dark, but she’d retained some information about their interests over the years.
Sheltered beneath a marquee, loops of dough sizzled in Baked’s portable fryer for fresh sugared doughnuts to go. Gooey brownies, peach turnovers, and stuffed cookies stayed warm in the mini oven, and an array of Baked’s most popular festively decorated doughnuts gleamed within the glass display they owned for the purpose of these events.
Baked ’s stall wasn’t one of the largest. Faye knew when she submitted her stand’s reservation deposit that there would be other food and beverage stalls larger than hers, so she’d banked on the chance shoppers might see those longer queues and divert to her, instead.
And she’d been right. Hardly a free minute went by where she was able to continue her fragmented conversation with?—
“Do you think Bash will come and say hi to us?” Maisie asked. Her brightly patterned dress with a gingerbread theme (because it was only a week before Christmas) dipped below the hem of her long winter coat they both very much needed this evening.
With Faye busy with the food side of the operation, Maisie had offered to take over from Gem – who worked at Baked between her study hours – to help with the customer service for the market’s evening stint.
“I’m not sure,” Faye said. “I haven’t seen him since the other ni?—”
Okay, that detail wasn’t meant to have come out.
“Since?” Maisie pressed, her nose and cheeks chilled red like her hair.
There wasn’t a less incriminating way to shyly say, “He stayed at mine the other night.”
Maisie’s eyes widened until they was more white than hazel.
“It’s not what you think.” Faye intended to make that very clear when an eager, beaming grin shone like an over-decorated Christmas tree on Maisie’s freckled face.
Another group approached; a family whose children’s wide, twinkling gazes plead for the Snoughmen doughnuts at their eye level in the display – decorated with white chocolate glaze, chocolate drops for eyes, and pieces of twig-like biscuits dipped in honeycomb chocolate for arms. The parents gave in with a laugh and bought two Doughmas Wreaths for themselves.
Two minutes later, Faye explained – much to Maisie’s impatient relief – what had happened with her non-existent intruder and Bash’s sleep over, quickly skimming over the part about how exactly she’d woken up .
The glint in Maisie’s eyes said it all about what she was thinking.
“Don’t say it,” Faye moaned.
Maisie threw back her head and laughed. “He is so in love with you too.”
“He’s not in love with—wait, what do you mean ‘you too’?”
“I mean exactly what I said.”
Faye certainly wasn’t in love with Bash for there to be a ‘you too’ situation in the first place. And even if she was, why would she admit it?
“Waking up … aroused, and being in love, are two non-synonymous things,” she said.
“You and him are fairly synonymous from where I’m standing,” Maisie rebuked under her breath, pulling up her bold red scarf.
Faye didn’t dignify that with a response. The more she refused, the more that none of her friends believed her. She could bet that none of them said these things to Bash, either.
She clacked her metal tongues and placed two S’more Dough?’ s into a Baked By The Dozen branded box for the next customer.
A queue formed fast as a wave of new shoppers entered the closed off street all at once. In some ways, Faye wished that Bash could see this. He would love the Nordic style huts selling hot chocolate and marshmallows, the rows and rows of lights like firebugs dangling overhead. The Christmas tree at the end of the street was gourdy and definitely not in line with the style of his work, but she was sure he would stand and admire it all the same.
Her bouquets of dough-pops were something Faye only made for online orders or occasions like these, and tonight they’d proven popular. One man had run up and hushedly purchased one, all the while looking over his shoulder. Faye’d handed over the lollipop versions of her regular doughnuts, all bound together with brown paper and snowflake themed ribbon, and watched the man dart off through the crowd that thinned at the exact moment in which she saw him tap on the shoulder of another man. He offered out the bundle of mini doughnuts like it was a first date bouquet of flowers, and given how the recipient gasped and blushed against the chilly air, Faye guessed that it was.
Her chest squeezed with longing to experience something like that.
Her dating life was more shrivelled than a prune. Flowers still bloomed in bright pinks and yellows outside of Baked ’s windows the last time she’d gone on a date, and before that since she’d last taken her clothes off for a man.
The dry spell hadn’t been intentional. Things just hadn’t … felt right this last year. No date had made her laugh like she should, or smile because of meaningless little things. Therefore she’d given up.
Towards eight p.m, the lull began. The shoppers thinned. The chill dropped so low that Faye and Maisie huddled near the warming ovens.
They would stay for another half an hour before packing everything away. The spare doughnuts would be dropped off at one of the shelters nearby like Faye often did with surplus produce she could no longer sell in the bakery but were still perfectly fine to eat. There were sure to be some hungry mouths who would appreciate the treat tonight.
In a gap between customers, Maisie fished around in the depths of her coat pocket. “I brought your Christmas present with me,” she said, surprising Faye, “since I know you’re not going to be here.” Faye chose to ignore the wiggle of ginger brows.
Surprise still lit up her face as Maisie pulled out a flat, palm-sized gift box tied together with ribbon, saying, “Open it now, please? I don’t want to wait another year to see what they look like on you.”
An inkling niggled within Faye that she knew what the gift might be. She made quick work of the ribbon and tissue paper and lifted one of a pair of handmade, glazed clay Christmas tree earrings. Beside them in the poly-foam padding sat a pair of snowmen.
“Oh Maisie, they’re adorable!” Handmade gifts were especially nice, and Maisie’s side business was full of them.
Maisie blushed at the complement. “I’d hoped you’d like them. They felt very you and I knew I had to give them to you.”
“You are so talented. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now let’s try them on.”
Faye hadn’t worn any earrings tonight since her beanie defeated the point, so she uncovered her ears whilst Maisie took the Christmas trees and placed them for her. They wobbled where they dangled when she tilted her head and posed for the photo Maisie took on her phone.
“I’ll say it again. You’re so talented, Maise. I’m going to miss you when you go.” Faye didn’t want to think much of how the time she’d thought she had left to say goodbye to her friends had been cut short with Maisie’s departure as well. Though she empathised completely with why her friend needed to leave for a while. It just … sucked.
Maisie fiddled with her coat’s belt accentuating her full figure. “I’m not going permanently . And I don’t know how long it’ll be for, but the rest of my family and friends are here so I’ll be back all of the time.”
“It’ll be weird having an empty seat at our friend nights,” Faye noted.
“You can always video call me and I’ll drink my own wine all of the way from Wales.”
Faye chuckled at the very plausible mental image of that.
“And anyway, the tables will be turning soon enough,” Maisie said with the same look in her eye from Samuel’s.
Faye’s smile died. “Yeah … ”
The joy of Christmas time faded around her. It’s only for a year, she had to tell herself. You’ll only be gone for a year. Phones existed for this very reason to connect people when they were apart … But it wouldn’t be the same.
Seeing her sadness descend like the hours counted down right in front of her eyes, Maisie opened her arms. “Come here.” She bundled Faye up in a hug. They were the best (second to Bash’s); big and warm and from the heart.
Faye sniffled as they drew apart. “I can’t believe you still wanted to be friends with me after I stole your toast in our first week of uni.”
“We were living together,” Maisie said, “I didn’t have much of a choice.”
“Gee thanks.” Faye laughed a shallow breath.
“And I got my revenge. I just don’t think you ever found out about it or figured it out.”
Faye’s jaw dropped. “What did you do?”
Taking interest in one of the two long braids cascading over her chest, Maisie winced, and Faye prepared herself for the worst.
“I swapped the sugar for salt in the blueberry muffins you made that week.”
“That was you ?” Faye practically exclaimed. Switching her ingredients was so much worse than anything she could have imagined. “No wonder that batch had been a diabolical disaster!”
Maisie gave her a wicked smile that made Faye’s eyes narrow in response.
“You’re so cruel.”