Stressed Spelled Backwards

by Ivanova, Svetlana

I didn't think anything could overpower the roar of the crowd, but something did. It was a demented voice, and it bellowed:

  "WHERE IS MY RESTUARANT?"

  I wheeled to face Celia, who stood in the middle of the room, quivering with rage.

  Crash! The magnificent castle could stand no longer. It collapsed noisily all over the floor. It actually symbolized my perfect fantasy as it began to crumble back into reality.

  Celia took in the scene before her. We stood like frozen deer in the headlight. Then there was the crowd, which was wild with joy.

  I ran over to Celia to comfort her in this moment of shock. She was hyperventilating. Elise handed her a bag to breathe in, which she did while glaring at me with malice.

  "Miss. Kononovich, I trusted you!" she said. "You should go live with the fish, so you can't steal any more of my oxygen!"

  "Aw, Celia!" Clarice and my best friends cried in protest.

  There was no explaining, not in this chaos. So I figured I'd do it by showing the woman instead. I dragged our landlady over to the cash register and dramatically pressed open the drawer. It popped out an eruption of money. You know how, in Saturday morning cartoons, the characters' eyes bulge three feet out of their heads? That's what happened to Celia.

  She stared at stray tens and twenties that fell like waste paper from the jammed trays. They came to rest on the metal strongbox that we kept under the counter. With a flourish, I opened it, too. A full box of coins.

  In all the time I'd known her, I'd never seen Celia at a loss for words. She gawked for a while, her eyes caressing the treasure like a one-eyed pirate, and then looked up at me.

  "How could you do that?"

  And then she took over. I don't know where she found her old apron because the laundry was freshly done, but Celia never lets a thing go missing. She hefted her meat fork and smiled at me.

  "Why did you bring these zoo goers into my place? Now, you'll have to excuse me, Miss. Kononovich. I have some freaks to straighten out."

  She walked right up to the crowd.

  "Alright, you mutants!" she bawled, marching up and down like a drill sergeant. "This establishment is under new management! These are the rules! There will be no throwing up, no stealing napkins, and no smoking in the restaurant! You're going to see a lot of offensive degenerate things, and if it makes you crazy, you're out! And if you use filthy, disgusting nasty language, I'm going to call parole officers! Have a lovely evening."

  I was in agony. After all my effort to turn her business into the hottest place in town, Celia was going to ruin everything!

  But then something weird happened. Instead of being insulted and getting up to leave, the crowd burst into laughter and applause.

  "They think she's an act!" I blurted out.

  "What else?" grinned Karmen. "Who'd believe there could be a woman like Celia?"

  Since the customers stayed, we got back to work. Celia joined the waiting squad, serving coffee and dessert with all the grace and charm of an old fashion sharp-tongued lady.

  "Okay, you goofy waffle, eat this if you can find your mouth!"

  "She's so cool!" declared a skinhead, slipping Celia a big tip.

  "You're a good boy, you know that?" beamed the landlady. "Let me recommend a good therapist for you because there must be something wrong with you and all those facial rings."

  The new proprietor was an instant hit. And since I was in the kitchen trying to spin out dessert, Celia was called to the corner for an encore presentation of the Rules. She was glad to oblige and went on for twenty minutes about such topics as how to use a knife and fork safely so nobody's eyes got poked out, what is a bathroom and why it is important to keep it clean. How to leave tips and respect the staffs, and how to not overstay in her restaurant.

  The crowd was convulsed with hilarity. Everyone enjoyed the thrill just as before. After the night, Celia chased out the last of our customers.

  "Go home!" she told them. "You're raising the crime rate staying out this late. Get out!"

  They remained a little longer on the sidewalk outside our deli, giving our landlady one last round of applause. Then they gradually dispersed.

  Celia turned to us, the staff.

  "Go to bed. I need a break from seeing your faces," she said.

  "Oh sure, Celia." I grinned. "You just want to be alone to dive into that cash box."

  "I have to hide, Miss. Kononovich. That Monica could be coming after me any time. I'm not supposed to be out of the hospital until tomorrow and I certainly am not going back there."

  "What? You suspect your rival is a mafia boss?" Karmen said.

  "Who else? Because none of you had the gut to tell me what she did to my beloved deli. I just found out about it yesterday," she told us. "What made you think I would come down here early?"

  "Well, all is good now," I said. "We've all worked like crazy to make this place a success for you. You'd better be nice to us. I'm the only one who knows the secret recipe for the Azra's Secrets, which is the backbone of your whole menu!"

  Celia squinted her eyes at me. I crossed my arms and raised my chin. For the first time, I felt some sort of pride and power to do this. She reached over and dipped a pudgy finger into a half-finished dessert. She licked at it experimentally. When she couldn't crack the code, she let out an annoyed grunt.

  "Alright, what's your bargain?"

  I looked at my girlfriend Clarice and my two best friends with a smile then turned back to Celia again.

  "A well-respected and well-paid job and a rent-free apartment," I said.

  "Oh kill me already!"

  EPILOGUE

  Of course, we didn't get the rent-free deal with Celia. We still had to pay her every month, but she did give us 30% discount and offer me a job as a pastry chef in her deli.

  Karmen was promoted to a manager, who would have to manage three new staffs in total. Even it was just a title; she seemed pretty pleased about it. I personally promoted Clarice to my own sale rep. She was very persuasive and good at introducing my dessert menu to the people. She could still do a side modeling if she wanted to. Elise also held a part-time position as my social media agent. She set up an Instagram profile dedicated to my dessert making. It became a hit among all the young baker-wannabes. Next, we would probably be working on a cook book. Who knows?

  Soon news reporters came to our place and asked to film me. My fame began to soar up, and then people started calling me 'Dessert Princess' on the internet.

  Celia also got to share the spotlight. She was now the new-wave comedian, who'd been wowing audiences with her cynical comments. On top of that, her old enemy was arrested by the police for running an illegal gambling operation a few weeks later.

  "I told you she's the devil in sheep skin," Celia said then she went outside and bellowed across the street. "Yoo-hoo! Goodbye, Monica!"

  We got so busy that we had to hire more staffs. Our tips alone could get up to 700$ a day.

  Now I had my own working station where people could see me working my magic live like a sushi chef. People came in to take pictures until Celia had to shoo them off.

  My parents called me crying with joy when they saw me on the news. Not bad for three girls whose parents had been expecting them to come crawling home in bankruptcy.

  "That will allow us to start our new lives in America," Karmen said. I looked at her.

  "We're moving in for real, aren't we?" I said. "You're sure?"

  "Well, of course!" she said. "We had a rough start in the beginning, but we improvised, we side-stepped, we overcame. That's living! Besides, I know you wouldn't want to leave Clarice."

  I reddened. It was true. Clarice had decided to move into our apartment with me. Karmen and Elise had to move out into another apartment opposite ours. At first, I was a bit worried about them, but then I realized they'd been arguing like an old married couple, they might as well live together like one.

  Elise nodded in agreement. "This was the only way to spend your life, Azra, finding so
mething you love to do and do it extremely well. Keep slaying, girl. I was wrong, and you both were right. Here is where all dreams come true."

  Karmen threw an arm around her. "It took you a long time to see the beauty of a big city other than Stonehenge. I never thought I'd say this, but I like you!"

  "I also want to go back to school and get a master's degree in History. If I sign another modeling contract for another year, I would be able to pay my way through Harvard."

  "Liking you is going to be a lot harder than I thought," said Karmen, rolling her eyes.

  I laughed. "Alright girls, I have to go now...you know...visiting Clarice's parents in California."

  "We're willing to give you our blessing," Karmen said with a grin. "Just be yourself and don't forget to bring your dessert with you. Her folks might get you both married next year because of it!"

  "Oh please," I said, but I did hope her parents fall in love with my homemade gold-dusted chocolate I prepared especially for them.

  Clarice appeared at the door. She looked like an anime character with a sparkling bright background to intensify her beauty. The blonde walked right up to us and threw her arms around me before giving me a big kiss on the lips.

  "Girls, get a room!" Karmen yelled while Elise giggled along.

  "You're ready, Dessert Princess?" Clarice asked me, smiling. I nodded back.

  Before we left, Celia made us a package of sandwiches to eat on the plane.

  "Food on the plane is worse than in the prison," she insisted. "And don't be on the honeymoon too long, or you'll be fired!"

  "Celia, we're not on a honeymoon," I told her, but she just snorted and went back inside.

  We got into our taxi. Karmen, Elise, and Ms. McHugh waved at us. As we drove away, I spotted Celia from the window. And for the first time, she was truly smiling.

  I felt like moving here didn't just change me. It also changed the people around me, and it all started with a baking cake mix I bought that one afternoon while trying to find a job. I could safely say that it was smooth sailing from there. But success wasn't measured in particular areas. It was the big picture that counted. You set a specific destination, but the journey was what you should enjoy the most, and even when you get lost, you might end up somewhere else better

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Svetlana Ivanova first started writing as a hobby. She likes to create bizarre stories for fabulous girls seeking love and passion from other girls. She likes to think of herself as a writer version of a mad scientist who enjoys creating a world where people’s suppressed sexuality and fantasies can roam freely. If she isn't writing her stories, she's daydreaming about writing her stories.

  Other books by Svetlana Ivanova:

  The romanov princess

  Anastasia Romanov

  Cursed Blood

  Hades

  Black Knight

  Daughter of the Naga (coming soon)