The Awkward Path To Getting Lucky

I frown. “Yeah. But that’s okay. I can multitask my major life events.”

Shannon looks amusingly unconvinced as she tucks her notebook into her apron and goes to wash her hands. Butter winks at me and returns to her cakes.

I turn back to the laptop and stare at fondant and buttercream chesticles of varying quality. There’s a surprising number of boob-cake images online. But then, I’m always surprised when we get odd cake requests and discover we aren’t the first to tackle them.

The four-foot edible mermaid last year was particularly shocking. To think there could be more than one of those in the world.

Just under a month until the presentation. A month and change until my deadline. I can absolutely handle this.

7 (#uab22ad16-deff-5c50-a72b-43434ffdf7d5)

Everyone is setting up their stations before the Monday morning rush in silence, as per the usual. No one has had time to let any coffee take effect by this point, so the most we usually muster is a grunt or two in recognition of the other humans in the room.

We’ve got only a few minutes until the hordes come crashing in, so I am trying to chug as much caffeine as I can while I tie on my apron and get my station in somewhat working order.

“So,” Butter says, breaking our unwritten code of silence. “How’d the stuff work over the weekend?”

Liz pops her head up, and Shannon stops in her tracks, holding a tray of brownies she’s taking to the display case out front.

I yawn. “Pretty good. I’ve got some preliminary sketches done. I think I’ll come up with some solid ideas for the presentation.”

Everyone is looking at me like I’m maybe the stupidest person they’ve ever encountered. “The stuff,” Shannon parrots. “Like, vagina stuff, lady.”

I slowly blink at her. “Oh. I didn’t get to that. I was working on the Coopertown ideas until really late every night and was too tired. I’ll break it all out tonight.”

Shannon looks personally offended. “Kat! You have to do it every day! Otherwise it won’t work. While I appreciate your dedication to the contract, you can’t put therapy off! That’s how you got into this whole two-year mess in the first place.”

My nature is to be indignant and sassy back to her, but even in my sleep-deprived state, I know she’s right. I take another swallow of coffee and say, “Fine. You’re right. I promise I’ll work on it tonight, okay?”

The front door bell jingles, letting us know our first customer of the day has arrived, and we know a whole gaggle isn’t far behind. Shannon races off with her brownies, and I grab a tray of orange muffins with warm cinnamon glaze and follow her.

The rush hits, and Shannon and I are working hard to take care of all the customers while Liz and Butter make sure our display shelves are fully stocked.

An hour or so in, I see a face in line I recognize—a coworker of Ryan’s whose name I’m pretty sure is Alice. I smile as she reaches the counter and say, “Hey! Good morning!”

“Hi, Kat!” she says, all sparkling teeth and perkiness, despite it being so early. “How are you?”

“I’m great,” I say, keeping my customer service face on, despite the caffeine in my system being severely underwhelming to combat her level of cheer. “What can I get for you, Alice?”

She points at the blueberry muffins and says, “One of those, and a large drip coffee to go.”

I grab a to-go cup and start pouring her coffee. I find most customers like to get that to their lips as fast as possible. Hell, I’ve known people to finish their cups before they even get to the cash register. I admire that kind of dedication.

“How’re things?” I ask Alice as I pop a lid on her drink.

“So good!” she says, taking the coffee from me. I reach down to bag up the muffin when she adds, “I was sorry to hear about you and Ryan!”

My head snaps up, muffin clutched in my hand. “What? What about me and Ryan?”

I notice that she holds her coffee with a raised pinky. Who does that?

“That you guys split up,” she says, eyeing the other confectionary offerings behind the glass.

“Oh,” I say, fighting to keep that professional smile intact. “Right, that is true.”

He’s telling people we split up? It’s been less than five days. And did we really split up? Is that what I should be telling people while we’re on this break?

“I know this sounds weird,” Alice continues, “but I wanted to come and make sure you were okay with everything before our date. I didn’t want to step on any toes, or get involved in something that’s still messy, you know?”

My hand clenches on the muffin, and it crumbles into chunks on the floor around my feet. “You’re...you’re going on a date with Ryan?”

Shannon’s head whips up from a few feet away. She can sense danger the way police dogs can sniff out weed in an old station wagon.

Alice looks at her mangled muffin. “Yeah,” she says cautiously. “When he said you’d broken up last week, I asked him out to dinner. I hope that’s okay?”

Shannon is hovering in her spot, waiting to see if she needs to tackle me to the floor before handing her customer a scone.

I blink wildly at Alice for a few seemingly endless seconds. “Oh, sure!” I trill. “I mean, totally! How great for you both!” I reach down into the case and pull up another muffin, carefully placing it in a bag. Handing it across the counter to her, I say, “Really, that sounds awesome. I hope you both have a great time!”

Shannon comes over, puts her hand on my shoulder, and in her most friendly-sounding tone, says, “Hey, Pumpkin, can you go trade places with Butter and finish up those cookies for the next round of rush? And have her bring up another tray of the coconut cuppies?”

I smile benevolently at her. “Absolutely.” I turn to Alice and keep the look alive. “It was so nice to see you again,” I say, moving out of Shannon’s way. “Have a great time on your date!”

I scurry into the back room and relay the cupcake message to Butter, who rushes out with a tray in hand.

Flopping down on the stool at my station, I stare off into the void for a moment. Five days. It’s been less than five days. How in the damn hell did he find someone to go out with in less than five days?

“Are you okay?” Liz asks, cutting another batch of scone dough. “You look a little pale.”

I look up and feel a blank expression plastered on my face. In the background, the sounds of a busy morning rush register in the one part of my brain that’s not sitting here repeating the Five days? mantra.

“I’m fine!” I say, willing it to be true. I grab my mug and quickly dump the now-cold coffee in the sink, reaching over and filling it again with the pot we keep back by our stations. “I just needed another little jolt to keep me conscious.”

She takes this as a suitable response and gets back to her scones, now loading them on a sheet tray for baking.

Shannon sticks her head back through the door. “All right?” she asks me as I chug coffee that’s only half a degree below molten lava in temperature.

Liz looks up at me again, suspicious now.

“Super!” I say, raising my mug. “Just super!”

I take another sip and head back out into the front room. The line isn’t any shorter.

“You can take some time,” Shannon whispers beside me. “Seriously, I’ve got it under control up here.”

I shake my head. “I’m good, really.”

And I have to mean that. This was my idea. I told him to go date other people. I’m not sure what I initially thought that would entail, but I can’t fault him for doing the exact thing I insisted he do.