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Small Business Saturday At Angel Kakes

The little bakery was bustling. Foot traffic was at a seasonal high, as anticipated. As Chief Pastry Chef and Proprietor, Aundrea needed to stay ahead of expectations.

She had been preparing all year for the holiday rush. She knew exactly how much sugar, flour and other ingredients to remain stocked up on. She knew exactly how many cupcake liners, cookie bags, cake boxes and other packaging she needed to keep on hand. She knew exactly how much help she needed to keep up with the ebb and flow of Christmas shoppers.
Aundrea had worked all of this out years ago and had a variety of contingencies to handle any surprises. She had backup channels to suppliers just in case somebody couldn’t deliver. She had backup assistants just in case someone got sick or simply ditched without announcing their unavailability. She had backup recipes just in case some sort of culinary fad swept the nation.

You never knew what kind of curve balls life would throw you but Aundrea did. She had suffered more than her fair share of chin music and bruised ribs over the years. Her mastery of all the madness of being a small business owner was hard won, but she was not one to let a lesson go unlearned. Everything went in the book.

There wasn’t just one book, mind you. Aundrea had a pocket notebook and a pen or two at all times.

Anything that caused any deviation from established standards got jotted down for later scrutiny. Bakery hours were for doing and off-hours were for pondering and planning. All of the incidental daily notes were incorporated into her weekly notes. Anything that suggested a developing pattern was compared to her official run books.

Is it any wonder she spent all of her time alone with her books?

Angel Kakes was a nickname her mother had given her. She had been baking for as long as she could remember.

At first, it was just a fun thing she did with her mom. That it resulted in something tasty to eat was incidental at best. If she ate everything she had ever baked, she’d be as big as a house. Fortunately, her parents had encouraged her to get into sports to help burn off the extra calories.

Aundrea was carrying a tray of cranberry walnut muffins from the back when she caught a glimpse of herself reflected in the glass of the display case. She didn’t look as harried as she felt.

It wasn’t one of those panic attacks where your hair is all over the place and you’ve got flour on your face. She was very much in control virtually every minute of every day. It was just one of the anticipated rushes that came shortly before closing.
People saw the hours painted on the glass of the front door in a whimsical but legible font and they began to panic. They suddenly remembered that they desperately needed a pie or a cake or a couple dozen cupcakes before she locked up for the night. The flurry of activity had an energy that could put her on edge if she didn’t keep in mind that this is what made the holiday season especially profitable.

She would not be drawn into the frenzy. Her face was sweet and serene. Not a glistening blond hair on her head was out of place. People were only clamoring for her baked goods because she was as talented a baker as she was firmly in control of her numbers and of her emotions.

That they thought enough of her work to reward her efforts with their hard-earned cash was compliment enough to keep a smile plastered on her face through even the most hectic rushes of the day.

Keep baking and keep raking in the dough. That’s what her dad had told her. She always reminded herself of that bit of fatherly wisdom whenever her veneer of civility began to wear thin.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like people. She genuinely did like most of her customers, no matter how ill-mannered they might become in the heat of the moment.

What she didn’t like was chaos. Her life depended on order. She relied on her numbers, procedures and practices as much as her very breath and beating heart. Even though rushes were an anticipated part of her daily business, it didn’t make enduring them that much easier. It was as if chaos was a roaring monster slashing out at her from the bars of a cage. She dare not dwell on her dread of overwhelming disorder when she was so close to closing up for the day.

Maintain composure and think about the music of the till as the swarming shoppers snatched up their purchases and left her in peace. There were a lot of familiar faces coming and going today. Classmates, neighbors, relatives and more than a few new faces stopped through.

She had just about regained her composure when a familiar face made her heart skip a beat.

Jeb Powell.

What was he doing here today? Jeb didn’t like crowds. He never had.

Didn’t stop him from coming to watch her play softball. He wasn’t one for jumping up and down and cheering but she knew he was there to watch her. It wasn’t creepy or anything. He was just a quiet little boy who had apparently decided to be a fan of hers.

Frankly, as boyfriends go, he was the best kind. He was always there in the corner of her eye with an air of quiet admiration. He didn’t want anything from her that she knew of. He wasn’t trying to control her or climb all over her like some kind of octopus. She always hoped he’d ask her out or even just take a walk with her sometime.

Time and circumstance put some distance between them. She didn’t know what became of him while she went away to culinary school in Empire City. When she got back to town, she was too busy setting up the bakery to really wonder what had become of him.

Here he was.

He hadn’t seen her yet. He was studying the cookies intently.

She wanted to run back into the kitchen and hide until he’d gone, but that wouldn’t be nice. She didn’t want to scare him off by walking right up and talking to him either. She was afraid she’d spook him.

She remembered she was bringing out a tray of muffins and focused on returning to her work. Either Jeb would talk to her or he wouldn’t. If he couldn’t get past his boyish awkwardness after all these years, that wasn’t her problem now was it? Was it?

“Aundrea, honey. Can I take those from you? I’ve got an order to fill for Mr. Daley.”

“Huh?” She handed the tray to Phyllis. “Oh, sure. Thanks. Are we waiting on anything?”

“You okay, kid?”

“Jeb’s here.”

Phyllis craned her neck to scan the crowd and found him looking at the cookies. “Hmm, sure is. Did you have any more of the gingerbread men coming up? I think they’re running low.”

A wave of horror threatened to demolish her brain. If she brought out more gingerbread men, Jeb might see her arranging them. After all these years, she wasn’t ready to face Jeb in the middle of a holiday rush.

“No more gingerbread, Phyl. We’re too close to closing. Try to push whatever we have out and let them know we can do a special order if they’d like to come back Monday.”

Phyllis glanced over at Jeb and got a knowing smirk. “Sure, honey. Better take that tray back to the washing machine.”
“Yes, I should. You’re right. I should take this to the washing machine right now.”

She resisted the urge to sprint into the kitchen like she was stealing home.

Aundrea forced an appearance of calm she definitely wasn’t feeling as she strode casually toward the doorway to the kitchen. She couldn’t resist the urge to look in Jeb’s direction.

She found him looking directly at her. That same sense of quiet admiration she’d always seen at the softball field emanated from him. There was a kind of cozy glow about him and just a hint of a smile.

That was new.

He never smiled before. He had always been completely impassive. It was almost like having a pet cat who had been turned into a boy by some random act of fairy tale magic. She looked again to be sure.

Yep, he was definitely smiling. Not a big cheesy grin. Not a creepy, lustful leer. Just the barest hint of a grin. Sort of like her magically transformed cat was purring. So subtle as to be nearly imperceptible but it was there and it was for her.

Was he actually going to talk to her after all this time? Was he going to ask her out? Was he going to walk her home? Was she going to melt away into a quivering puddle of helpless goo right here in her bakery?

Her knees were threatening to buckle when she staggered into the kitchen to catch her breath.

She just about jumped out of her skin when she heard Phyllis say, “Hey, Jeb. Can I get you anything?”

Phyl!!! What are you doing? You’re going to scare him away!

She sneaked over to the doorway to peek out and see what was happening.

Jeb ordered a variety of cookies. She couldn’t hear his voice from over here. She was suddenly overtaken with an urge to hear what his voice sounded like but she didn’t dare leave the kitchen. Chaos was looming between them like a dreadful storm.

He took his cookies and wandered out of the bakery with a parting glance toward the kitchen.

Crap! She’d blown it. What the heck is the matter with you? He’s just a quiet guy who wanted some cookies.

He’s just the most deliciously masculine thing you’ve laid eyes on in your entire life and you let him walk out of the bakery with a bag of cookies and a parting glance. Aundrea started beating her forehead with the muffin tray.