Chapter Eleven #2
I stepped toward the counter, settling in next to Rowena so our shoulders were brushing, and studied the goods she had sprawled out.
The frosting colors were unnaturally bright, and I wondered what sort of dyes were used to create them.
We’d never had anything like them on Hollenboro.
I picked up a long, skinny tube of sprinkles, sliding the little beads back and forth in the tube like a toy.
The sprinkles came in a variety of colors – mainly black, orange, and green, and were formed into all sorts of shapes.
There were round, shiny sprinkles, long, thin ones, and even ones shaped like little pumpkins and bats.
“Yeah,” Rowena replied, eyeing me as I studied the icing and sprinkles. “I figured with everyone bummed about Halloween night festivities, they could use some extra cheer from the bakery.”
“I mean, I’ve never used these sorts of goods before,” I replied, still studying the sprinkles. Rowena rolled her eyes at me, and I chuckled as I placed the tube back on the counter. “But I’ll try. After all, how hard can it be?”
It was much harder than I thought.
An hour later, I stood with my shoulders slumped in front of the counter, the piping bag full of bright purple icing shaking in my hand as I observed the disaster that lay in front of me.
Two dozen cookies ruined. Two dozen homemade sugar cookies with lopsided frosting and uneven sprinkles. Not to mention all the frosting smeared on the counter and the bat-shaped sprinkles scattered across the floor.
Baking the sugar cookies had been the easy part. My grandmother’s recipe was foolproof, and they came out of the wood oven just as fluffy and sweet as they did back on Hollenboro.
The frosting was where it all went wrong.
Back home, the only frosting I ever used was a thin, runny mixture made from butter and powdered sugar that I drizzled over scones and cinnamon rolls.
The concept of scooping the thick, putty-like frosting into a plastic bag and squeezing it through a tiny funnel was foreign to me.
And it was hard . With the first batch of cookies, I could never get the pacing right.
I’d end up squeezing out huge globs one moment, then the funnel would get gummed up the next.
It reminded me of when I wandered through Bar Harbor and passed by a human bakery.
How the cupcakes in the display window were immaculate, with delicate, rounded swirls topped with perfectly placed sprinkles.
At the time, I thought it looked so effortless. I picked up a single sugar cookie, mentally trying to persuade myself they weren’t that bad. Then a glob of icing dripped off the side and onto the palm of my hand, and I nearly screamed in frustration.
I plopped the ruined cookie back on the parchment, wiped the purple goo off my hand, and crumpled to the floor. I leaned my back against the cabinets, tucked my knees up to my chest, and struggled to breathe through my frustration.
Gods, I hope Rowena doesn’t come back here. I’d heard her fumbling around in the café all morning, but she was yet to come in and check on me.
Up until this point, my job had been easy.
I had complete and total confidence in my baking skills.
After all, everyone loved my cookies, scones, and whoopie pies.
But now that I was away from Hollenboro, out in the real world, I was starting to realize there was a lot more to being a professional baker than just popping some dough in the oven.
There was so much I still needed to learn.
Which normally wouldn’t have been a problem.
I loved learning. But here, I was an employee, and I was expected to produce baked goods that would sell.
I didn’t have time to learn. I didn’t have room for error.
Eventually, Rowena would come back here, see the frosting-covered disaster on the counter, and realize I wasn’t the top-tier baker she thought I was.
It crushed both my pride and my heart.
The tops of my cheeks burned, which meant tears were imminent. I scowled and buried my face in my knees, both frustrated and embarrassed.
From a few feet away on the floor, Aria gave a concerned squeak. I lifted my head a fraction of an inch and watched as she scampered over on all fours and lifted her front paw to my ankle.
“Aw, I’m sorry, girl,” I sighed, patting her tiny, windy head with my finger. “We tried our best.”
I felt so guilty at having failed, especially since Aria had been helping me all morning.
I had summoned her with the mark on my neck, just like Rowena had instructed, and she was more than willing to get to work.
She was remarkably skilled in the kitchen for such a small, mousey elemental.
She could lift herself up on a gust of wind to reach the top cabinets, and she even summoned a mini tornado to spin the dough in the bowl.
Which saved me a lot of time and elbow grease, I chuckled as tears pooled in my eyes.
My frustration softened. In the end, there was nothing more I could do. I couldn’t just magically summon baking skills I hadn’t learned yet.
I just hoped Rowena wouldn’t be too upset.
At that moment, there was a hard knock on the door that nearly sent me jumping out of my skin. I sighed. There was only one person that knock could belong to.
Better to get this over with now.
“Come in,” I shouted weakly over my shoulder.
The door creaked open, and Rowena looked mildly concerned as she peered out from behind the aging wood. I wondered if she’d heard my groans of frustration all the way in the front of the shop.
“You alright?” Rowena asked. She seemed more concerned than upset. I stumbled to my feet, trying to appear as composed as possible. Thankfully, the tears had subsided, and my ears and tail hadn’t popped out. For a moment, all felt normal.
Then Rowena’s gaze flicked over to the mess of cookies on the counter, and I winced.
“I’m… I’m really sorry…” I stuttered as Rowena walked slowly toward the counter.
She paused and picked up one of the poorly frosted sugar cookies, one that had way too much icing on one side and not enough on the other.
She studied it like some ancient artifact, but her face was devoid of emotion.
The anticipation of her reaction made me tremble with anxiety.
“I should’ve just been honest with you,” I continued blabbering as she surveyed the rest of the cookies. “I’d never worked with frosting or sprinkles before. I didn’t realize how difficult the piping would be. I can learn… with time… but…”
I slumped against the counter again, curling my cloak around myself and pulling the hood tightly over my head.
And it was just in time. I could feel my wolf ears pressed up against the fabric.
Damn it. Curse these stupid ears. I swear to the gods…
“Nettie…” Rowena uttered my name in a soft and concerned tone. It should’ve brought me comfort to hear her being so compassionate.
But instead, I burst into tears.
Like a child.
I cried harder as Rowena knelt next to me, steadying her hands on my shoulders just like she’d done the day before.
“I failed,” I blubbered through my tears.
“No, you didn’t,” Rowena replied. Her response was so level and factual it made me snap out of my sobs.
“W-what do you mean?”
“Nettie,” Rowena sighed, rising to her feet and picking up one of the sugar cookies. “Trying something new and not getting it perfect on the first try isn’t failure. That’s how we learn. Failing is what leads to success.”
I let out a long, slow breath. “I know. But I don’t really have time to learn. We need to sell cookies today, and these–” I gestured up at the counter, “–are a disaster.”
Rowena pursed her lips as her eyes scanned the rows of cookies. “That depends on how you define the word ‘disaster’.”
I cocked my head, and Rowena chuckled.
“Here, take a look,” Rowena pointed at the sugar cookies, and I stumbled to my feet so I could see over the counter.
“See that first row there? Those have the messiest icing jobs. But if you go down the rows–” Rowena dragged her finger across the countertop. “–you’re getting progressively better with each cookie. I wouldn’t call that a failure.”
I frowned, lifting the very last sugar cookie off the parchment paper. It had green frosting with orange pumpkin sprinkles. “I mean… this one is almost sellable. At least the frosting layers are even.”
Rowena plucked the cookie from my hands and surveyed my icing job. And to my surprise, she raised it to her mouth and took a large bite.
“Rowena!” I exclaimed, but she only grinned as she chewed.
“What?” she mumbled through a mouthful of cookie. “They’re still delicious.”
“You have frosting on your face.”
“Where?”
In a single, impulsive movement, I reached up, cupped Rowena’s cheek in my hand, and brushed a smidgen of green icing off her skin.
And, if that wasn’t bold enough, I took the finger containing the green icing and stuck it in my mouth.
“That is pretty good,” I replied, licking my finger as Rowena gawked at me in bewilderment. “Maybe a little too sweet, though.”
Once Rowena recovered from the shock, she playfully rolled her eyes and shook her head.
“Seriously, though,” I continued. “Thank you. Your words mean a lot to me.”
Rowena smiled. “I appreciate you, Nettie. You don’t realize how much you’ve helped this café.”
“I don’t?”
“Well yeah. I’ve had more customers these past few days than I’ve had in the two months since Rune left,” Rowena replied. “Everyone loves your pastries. One shoddy icing job isn’t going to change that.”
I sighed, warmth filling my body as my anxiety left it. “You’re the best, Rowena.”
To my surprise, that made Rowena flinch. Her eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed pink.
“Th-thank you,” Rowena replied. She extended her arm, offering me her slender hand, and I took it. “Have you had your coffee yet?”