Fat Cat Takes The Cake

The newest employee, Mallory Tucker, was behind the counter ringing up sales, so Chase circulated among the browsers, explaining the contents of the boxes, from telling a middle-aged couple that Harvest Bars did indeed contain pumpkin and related spices, to pointing out to a pair of teenage girls that they could order a box of six with mixed dessert bars. They had been arguing because one of them wanted Peanut Butter Fudge Bars (she didn’t like coconut), the other wanted Hula Bars (she didn’t care for chocolate).

As soon as Inger returned from her break, of course, the customers thinned out. Chase returned to the kitchen with Mallory, so their newest hire could take her break.

Anna sat at the island again, perusing the application to the Minny Batter Battle, her purse on the counter. She must have gotten it out of the office, Chase thought.

“Oh, your phone dinged,” Anna said, still staring at the papers.

Chase’s phone was on the granite counter next to the refrigerator. She would get it next time she got up. Her feet were tired. Chase sat between Mallory and Anna.

“How are you holding up?” Anna asked Mallory. She had been working at the Bar None for only a week.

“Is it always this busy?” The young woman looked exhausted. Her long blonde hair was shiny, as were her eyes, but her shoulders drooped. Mallory had graduated from high school in the spring. In spite of that, in addition to babysitting, she had listed a long string of part-time and temporary jobs on her application. This was her first real payroll job, though. Anna and Chase had both been impressed by her earnestness and sincerity during her interview. So many of the applicants treated the whole experience as something frivolous, some even checking their phones repeatedly while Anna or Chase tried to get them to answer questions about themselves. So far, they both thought they had made the right choice. Mallory seldom smiled, but got along well with Inger, which was important. Her new employee was probably still a bit nervous on the job, Chase thought.

“It’s not always this busy,” Chase said. “This time between Thanksgiving and the holidays is one of the two busiest of the year.”

“In January,” Anna said, “we’ll probably only need one of you at a time, so you won’t need to come in all day, every day.” Anna got up to get Mallory something to drink. “Pop? Coffee? There might be some more lemonade.”

“Lemonade, please.” She gulped it down. She had obviously been thirsty. “I’ll go back to the front now.”

“Stay another few minutes if you like,” Chase said. She didn’t want to wear out their new employee right away.

“That bell keeps ringing.”

It was true. Since Chase had left the front room, the bell on the front door had tinkled every three seconds. The shop might be full again by now. Mallory climbed off the stool and scooted into the salesroom.

“Baking all done?” Chase asked Anna.

“Everything except washing up.” Anna glanced at her watch.

“I’ll do that, Anna. I’ll bet you have things to do, don’t you?”

“Everything should be ready for the wedding. If not, it’s too late.”

“I can’t believe it. It’s in three weeks! I know our dresses are ordered, but Julie and I still need shoes,” Chase said.

“Three weeks exactly. You know I offered to make the dresses.”

Yes, Anna had. And she would have and they would have been beautiful, but Chase and Julie wanted to spare her, the bride, that extra chore. If they all ended up worrying about the arrival of the bridesmaid dresses, though, it would have been better for Anna to make them.

“I would like to leave early, though,” Anna said, “to take this home and fill it out.” She stuffed the application papers into her purse.

“When is the Batter Battle?”

“Two and a half weeks from now. But the deadline to sign up is this coming Saturday. I have to turn in a recipe, so I have to come up with one by then.”

“Can’t you use one of our best sellers from here?”

Anna shrugged into her parka. “I’d rather create something. I have no idea what.”

Chase sought inspiration in the ceiling for a moment. “You were working on the ones that tasted like donuts, remember? A couple of months ago? Did you quit working on them?”

Anna paused on her way to the door. “Yes, I did. Those weren’t going to work. Much too heavy. But I’ve been fiddling around with muffin recipes. Muffin Cookie Bars, I think I would call them. That would be different, wouldn’t it?”

“Would you rather call them muffins or cookies? Muffins would be more unusual. But are they sweet enough? Muffins often have a topping.”

“You may be right, Charity. I’ll try a topping at home tonight. Game on, Grace Pilsen.”

“Bring them in tomorrow,” Chase shouted as Anna left.

She was now alone in the kitchen with dirty bowls and baking pans, but also with the sweet aroma of Cherry Chiffon Bars, the last thing Anna had baked.

At six, closing time, Chase turned the sign on the front door over to “Closed.” After Inger and Mallory left, it was Quincy’s time.