“Oh, I am sure that Foggy Basin would love to buy more souffles and Millefeuilles.”
“The cannoli and macarons did better than you thought, and what the fuck is a millyfille?” She cackled. I loved the sound of her laugh more than almost anything. “Sounds like a pastry for old ladies.”
“Cookies, cupcakes, muffins, and pies are what the people here eat, Tammy Sue. They’re the fastest to make, too. If we spent the time making… any of the things, I would love to bake,we… It’s about the cost per dessert, and we have to factor in the time for that. Making a couple of trays of macarons is one thing, but we don’t have the staff or the time to really change the menu. I also don’t think people would be too happy about it.”
“We were pretty busy yesterday.”
“If every day could be an event in town, we’d be doing great!”
“Saturdays are pretty good too.”
“Pretty good doesn’t pay for the mortgage and the electricity.”
“Or me.”
“Or you – or my own rent.”
“I think the oven is hot enough again. What are we putting in first? We still have quite a few cookies from yesterday that we need to sell before we make too many more. I have a couple dozen of sugar cookies ready to go.”
“Cupcakes. We need them to cool. Remember when I made a batch of Napoleons, and they didn’t sell?”
“I didn’t say it was going to be easy, babe. But this place is yours.” She threw up her hands to stop my diatribe from rushing out of my mouth. “It’s yours.” She pointed her finger at me and wiggled it into my chest. “I know it has a history that… Hey, I practically grew up here, too, you know. I get it. It’s special, but if it’s going to be yours – if your future is really here, babe – then you have to make this place totally yours. If you make it, they will come.”
“I hate you so much right now. I can’t believe you just turned a baseball movie analogy into a baking one.”
“If the movie quote fits.” She shrugged and grinned maniacally.
“If it hadn’t been for you, this place would have gone under right at the start. I had no idea what I was doing.”
“Darling, you still have absolutely no clue, and you know it.” She giggled. “We’re making this shit up as we go along while your parents are traveling the globe.”
“Let’s hope it’s still here when they get back. But I’m glad to be here doing this with my bestie. If it weren’t for you, I don’t know if I would stay.” I sighed.
“To stay in a place means you have to actually put down some roots, you know. Can you pass me the brown sugar?”
I handed it over to her. “I have roots. I grew up here.”
“Those are not the kind of… those are old growth roots. I mean new ones.”
“You mean dating.” I measured a cup of milk and started gently pouring it into the whipped cream cheese. “Who the fuck has any time for that?”
“Teachers, truck drivers, bookstore owners, gas station workers, you know… everyone but the great Perseus.” That was not my name, but Tammy Sue liked to call me that ever since we studied Greek mythology in middle school.
“Har-de-fucking-har.”
“I’m serious. You don’t have to stay here until midnight every night, you know. What are you even doing?” She started breaking eggs into her mixture.
“Bookkeeping, paying bills, ordering supplies.”
“Feeling sorry for yourself. I swear, where is your phone?”
“It’s over by the… No! You are not going to try to Grind’r me right now. Trust me, I looked. The pickings are very slim. This isn’t a city, Tammy Sue – it’s Foggy Basin.”
“God,” she slapped the counter. “you make it sound so depressive.”
“Well, it’s not actually been a picnic.”
“Our choices are our own, babe. If you see dark rainclouds instead of-“
