Aunt Vera shook her head. “Of course not. I think Rosie is indestructible.”
I glanced across the room to where my aunt was doing the dishes. The poinsettia I’d given her was on the counter next to her, its leaves subtly arching toward the light from the window above her.
My aunt and Bryce thought the poinsettia was a fresh one I purchased this year when really it was the same one I had accidentally enchanted last year.
“Ready for this competition?” my aunt asked, drawing my eyes away from the poinsettia. Two cooled cakes were on the counter before her, waiting to be decorated.
“Born ready,” I said.
An hour later, as the timer dinged, I examined the nutcracker theme I had attempted to pull off. The grandfather clock was my favorite part, but I thought the mice had come out pretty great as well. When I turned around to see what my aunt had come up with, I grinned.
Aunt Vera had covered her cake in three-dimensional blooming flowers. To tie it into the Christmas theme, she had made them all in shades of red, green, and white.
“Went with a floral theme this year?” I asked as my aunt dusted her hands on her apron.
“I think you inspired me with your floral creations at the wedding.”
“All right, Bryce. You’re up.”
Bryce walked into the kitchen, putting on a dramatically scared expression. He looked over both of our cakes, walking circlesaround them like a baking show judge, then said, “Can I call it a draw?”
My aunt and I both let out an exasperated gasp and shook our heads.
“Come on, Bryce. We thought you were up for the task,” I teased.
“Are there any criteria for this? Choosing which isbetteris a little subjective.” Bryce wasn’t wrong. I had become much more scientific in these sorts of things since joining Evergreen Academy, and our judging methods would never hold up against Brie’s and her complex matrix for scoring the gingerbread house competition.
Bryce began pointing back and forth between the two cakes and murmuring.
“You’re doing eeny meeny miny moe, aren’t you?” Aunt Vera rolled her eyes, though a smile graced her lips.
“Moe,” he said, landing on my cake. “You’re the winner, B. Congrats.”
Aunt Vera looked pointedly toward the couch. “Hope you’ll be comfortable there tonight, sweetie. Don’t interfere with Santa.”
When I laughed as Bryce retreated to the living room, my aunt turned to me and lowered her voice. “Just between the two of us, I think Bryce picked the right cake. Your skills have been majorly growing. Maybe you should consider culinary school instead of art school.”
Her tone was light, but I bit my lower lip, and she noticed. “Or do you have something else in mind?”
“I’m not sure,” I said, responding slowly to buy myself time. I couldn’t explain the real reason I was conflicted, but I had always been able to share things with Aunt Vera, and this didn’t have to be any different. “Up until I started at Evergreen Academy, I was so sure of my plans. And now…”
“Plans change, Briar Rose. In fact, I was considering law school before I started apprenticing at the old bakery.”
“What?” I leaned my elbows onto the counter. “You never told me that.”
“It’s true. When your mom was getting ready to transfer to art school, I was thinking about attending a university and then studying law. I was the top student in debate class in high school.”
I snorted. That was no surprise. “So what happened? Why didn’t you pursue it?”
“The bakery apprenticeship sort of fell into my lap, and at the time, it just felt right. I’ve never looked back.”
I pressed myself backward, leaning so hard against the back of the barstool that its front legs began to lift off the ground. I straightened up when I noticed. “Wow. It’s so hard to imagine you doing something else. The café feels like an extension of who you are. You would have been a kickass lawyer, though.”
“I’ve never had any regrets. Sometimes different options present themselves for a reason. The thrill of life is the choice in what path you take.”
I nodded, considering her words. If I didn’t go to art school, what would my path be? I thought of the work I had been doing with Petra. Were there careers for magical botanists with defensive affinities? It was hard to even think about that when we were still working on un-poisoning my powers.
My aunt Vera spoke again, and this time her voice was soft as her eyes searched my face. “You know your mom would be proud no matter what you do, right?”
