by Tracey Smith
The cake stood nearly two feet tall with a rather narrow base, so I knew moving it from my second floor apartment and across the street to campus was not going to be an easy feat. I carefully loaded my cake into a box and took it down the freight elevator, only when I got to the lobby I found that the furniture was still blocking the hallway and I had no way to maneuver around it. I had never been so irritated.
I hadn’t slept all night. I was anxious, exhausted and terrified that my work of art was going to be destroyed on the short trip to the school. Now after having successfully gotten my cake downstairs I was going to have to take my cake back up the elevator and carry it down two flights of stairs.
I was so annoyed with how inconsiderate this person had been to leave their furniture blocking the one working elevator in the building. I couldn’t resist, I had to express my anger at them so that they knew their thoughtless behavior had not gone unnoticed. I scribbled a quick note and attached it to the easel. An artist, go figure. Probably some self-indulgent, narcissistic type.
I then went back to my apartment and asked Amy if she could help me carry the cake downstairs. As we delicately balanced the box and slowly made our way down the stairs an inch at a time we suddenly came to a standstill. I was behind the box and I wasn’t sure what was holding us up, then I heard Amy talking abruptly with someone.
When we finally started moving again I saw a couple of guys were trying to carry a couch up the stairs. My anger flared as I realized these must be the careless newcomers that had blocked the elevator. Obviously they didn’t know it existed since they were carrying their couch up the stairs and I hoped it made them feel really stupid when I told them about it.
However, by the time I made it down the stairs I felt bad for having been rude even though they had deserved it after having so rudely blocked the elevator. Of course, I reasoned with myself, if they didn’t know it was there I guess it wasn’t intentional. I cooled down and decided to leave another note, this time telling them how to find the elevator.
It wasn’t like me to snap at someone the way I had on the stairwell. I was exhausted and annoyed, but that was no excuse. For a few weeks I was anxious about running into my new neighbors again. But I didn’t really get a good look at either one of them so I wasn’t sure if I ever saw them again. As I had hoped, they were much quieter than their predecessor and so I didn’t give them much more thought.
Time was passing quickly again. It was easy to lose myself in my culinary studies. When I wasn’t at school I was at work. I spent most of my waking hours in a kitchen, and loved every minute of it. The head chef at my restaurant was impressed with the dessert selections I created and asked me to run a nightly dessert special.
I developed a bit of a reputation in the surrounding neighborhoods. People would come to the restaurant just to try that night’s dessert special. It was encouraging to know that people liked my creations and it helped me decide what I was going to do once I finished school. Graduation was right around the corner again and it was time to figure out my next step. I couldn’t stay a student forever.
Dan proposed to Amy the night she graduated from the Fashion Institute. I was happy for both of them, but seeing how happy they were together forced me to think about how alone I was.
Most of the time it was easy not to think about my life outside of work. I was a hard worker and focused on my career goals, most of the time. But sometimes, when I lay in bed at night unable to sleep I would realize how lonely I was. I tried to push those thoughts to the back of my mind during the daylight hours. It was easier then. I had enough to do to keep my mind busy during the day. It was the nights that were the hardest.
Amy and Dan had a beautiful summer wedding on the beach. Amy absolutely glowed she was so happy. Everything went perfectly. It was a small ceremony, just Amy and Dan’s immediate family and some close friends. Jared was there. I was the maid of honor and he was the best man.
We stood on opposite sides of the altar trying not to look at each other. Our eyes met once and I smiled at him, but he just looked down at his feet. He actually looked like he was trying not to cry and that made me feel so guilty that I avoided looking at him the rest of the day.
I was relieved when the ceremony was over because I was catering the reception, so that allowed me to remain busy and avoid any uncomfortable conversations with Jared. Everyone complimented the food, especially the cake. Many people approached me and commented that I should start catering weddings for a living. It was funny to hear my private thoughts spoken allowed. I had been giving a lot of thought to what I would do next and I had considered starting my own catering service. However it wasn’t the food that I enjoyed cooking the most, it was the cake.
Amy and Dan honeymooned in Cancun, and Dan surprised Amy when they returned by already having secured a small house for them to move into to. She was happier than I had ever seen her and I couldn’t help but be happy for her.
However, it was harder to live alone than I would have imagined. It wasn’t like that first summer when I had lived alone in our apartment. I had craved the solitude then. I had welcomed it. Now I dreaded it.
There was too much time for me to think about myself. School was over for me. I no longer had that distraction. Work only filled so many hours of the day. Without Amy’s constant chatter to distract me I had too much time to think.
Time to think about how lonely I felt. Time to wonder if I would ever fall in love. Time to think about Michael. I had worked so hard to forget him. I had failed.
The memory of his face was as clear as ever. I wondered if I would ever feel so drawn to another man. I realized sadly that if I couldn’t, I would never fall in love. If I couldn’t find someone who would consume my thoughts the way that stranger had, then I would never forget him. If I couldn’t forget him, I could never really feel something for anyone else. I felt so hopeless. I needed something else to focus on something to distract me.
In addition to my pining for an unreachable stranger, I also spent a lot of time considering my future. To occupy my mind during those lonely days I spent the majority of my free time in my kitchen. I would bake small cakes and pastries and then leave them in the lobby of the apartment building.
My neighbors loved the treats I would leave, and some would even leave notes requesting their favorite items. Baking was my passion and one day the idea just clicked into place. I was surprised I hadn’t considered it before. I could open a bakery.
I was grateful I had chosen to pursue a business degree at UCSD, I had the knowledge to run my own business and I had the talent to be successful. Now all I needed was the money to get started.
I had over a dozen meetings at various banks before I finally found a lender willing to take a chance on me. I was lucky that the loan officer had been one of my regular customers at the restaurant who had loved my dessert specials, and he promised to be one of my first customers once the bakery opened.
I found a perfect location that had once been a small Chinese restaurant. It was so nice to have something to devote all my time and energy to. I no longer had any free time to let my mind wander, to let myself dwell on the man that I couldn’t have, the love that could never be.
It didn’t take much renovation to adapt the old kitchen to meet my needs. I was able to purchase the equipment I needed and I spent all my free time setting it up. Amy offered to help me decorate the front of the store and I was grateful for her assistance. I focused on the functionality of the kitchen, and she focused on the appearance of the small lobby at the front of the shop. It wasn’t long before it was ready.
I began distributing fliers announcing my grand opening. I had never been so nervous in all my life! My boss at the restaurant was sad to be losing me, but he was very supportive and he allowed me to leave some fliers at the hostess station.
I spent the entire day before the grand opening baking every kind of pastry, cookie and treat I could imagine. I even made a few small specialty cakes, one was square an
d decorated to look like a wrapped gift, and another was a sphere decorated to look like a soccer ball.
I didn’t figure they would sell, but they did add a bit of charm to the glass display cases. Finally when the cases were full I cleaned up and went home. I couldn’t sleep at all that night. I lay awake all night wondering: would anyone come?
I finally gave up on sleep around 3 am and headed for my shop.
My shop. I loved the sound of it. I was only 24 years old and I owned my own business. I knew it was quite a feat and something to be proud of. Something I had never thought to dream of, but now that it was happening I couldn’t imagine my life having gone any other way.
I had butterflies in my stomach as I entered the small building and made my way to the kitchen. I decided to make some fresh doughnuts and began to relax as soon as I started baking. I felt at home in the kitchen.
The butterflies returned when my watch beeped alerting me to the hour. It was time to open the doors. The sun had not yet risen, but the sky was beginning to brighten.
I looked around at my little shop. The cases were stocked, the coffee brewed, all that was left to do was open the doors and hope people would come. I walked slowly to the front of the shop, feeling almost faint. What if no one came? What would I do?
My fears were immediately subdued when I made it to the front door and saw the small crowd waiting for me to open. Some of the faces I recognized from the restaurant. One face was that of my loan officer and I laughed quietly when I realized he wasn’t joking about being my first customer. Of course Amy was there too. I smiled widely as I opened the door and greeted my first customers. Amy hugged me quickly as soon as she entered.
“Thought you might need some help this morning.” She told me
“Thanks” I whispered.
I had hoped for a few customers I hadn’t expected a crowd. We quickly made our way behind the counter to take the first orders.
The morning flew by in a blur. People kept coming. Once the sun had finally broken the horizon the shop was packed. I ran out of half my supply within the first hour and had to go back into the kitchen to make more. I was so grateful Amy had offered her help. I could have never kept up on my own. By 10 am the pace had finally slowed and I was exhausted.
“Wow” Amy exhaled as she flopped into a chair.
She looked just as tired as I felt. The sleepless night was finally sinking in.
“Tell me about it” I replied pouring another cup of coffee for each of us.
We both sat silently drinking our coffee. I thought about the morning, about which items had been the most popular, planning what I would need to bake for tomorrow. I wondered if tomorrow would be just as busy. Amy seemed to be thinking the same thing.
“What time tomorrow?” she asked.
I wasn’t sure how to respond. I knew I needed her help, but I didn’t want to monopolize her time. I knew she was job-hunting, and I felt bad pulling her away from that. She must have understood my hesitation.
“Come on Katherine, I know you need the help and I have plenty of time on my hands these days” she said that last part with a sour edge to her voice.
I knew she was struggling to find a job as a fashion designer. She had taken her portfolio to every major designer in the area and had not yet been offered a job.
“Amy I couldn’t ask you to give up on…”
“I won’t” she interrupted before I could finish “But you need the help, and I had fun today. I want to come back. That is, if you want me to.”
“Of course I do! I couldn’t have gotten through today without you!” I told her honestly.
I needed her help and I couldn’t refuse it if she was so eager to offer it. I wondered if this was a way for her to avoid more rejection in the job market, but if that’s what she needed right now I wasn’t going to deny her.
“I think I’ll open at 5 again tomorrow.” I told her
“I’ll be here.” She confirmed smiling “How late are we staying open today?” she asked.
I had been wondering the same thing myself. I’d had no idea what to expect from today so I had just decided to play it by ear.
“I don’t know. Seems like things have slowed down now, think it’ll pick back up?” I asked both her and myself.
“There’s only one way to find out” she replied “Maybe we should prepare for an afternoon rush just in case”
I agreed and went back to the kitchen, this time trying to bake items that would seem a better fit for an afternoon snack rather than breakfast. Her prediction had been correct. We filled up again around noon and immediately sold out of the 5 dozen batches of cookies I had made. I realized I needed to stop underestimating our demand as I went back to the kitchen again to re-stock.
The lunch rush had not been quite as busy as the morning, but we still had a good steady flow from 12pm to 2pm. We finally closed the shop around 3pm. Amy went home and I went back into the kitchen to prepare items for the next day and to take inventory of my depleting supplies. Finally around 6pm I trudged home, practically dead on my feet.
On my way home I analyzed the demands of the day. Thinking about which items seemed more popular in the morning versus the afternoon. I was planning the next day as I lay down in bed, but exhaustion overtook me and I was asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.
I welcomed the ease of sleep. I had been struggling with insomnia for months and it was wonderful to drift off so easily. For the first night in a long time I didn’t think of him, my mind was only filled with pastries.
After a good night’s sleep I woke up ready to get started and full of ideas. I went to the shop early again and immediately started baking. I made a wide variety of muffins, which had been very popular the day before, but I also added several batches of blueberry and dried cherry scones and some croissants stuffed with soft cheese or chocolate. In addition to the oversized cinnamon rolls that had already proved to be a big seller, I also made some creamy caramel pecan rolls, along with a large assortment of donuts and danishes. Finally I decided to also add a double chocolate biscotti and lemon-pistachio biscotti. By the time Amy arrived just a little before 5am I already had the display cases stocked and ready to go.
My second morning was even busier than the first. Most of the people I’d seen the day before came back again, and this time there were many new faces as well. The morning ran smoothly, since I had prepared more food in anticipation. The morning rush lasted several hours, and then when things slowed down Amy ran out to pick up some lunch for us while I headed back into the kitchen to prepare for the afternoon crowd.
My lunchtime offerings were as varied as the morning. I made several fruit tarts, some pies and cakes, as well as a dozen batches of various cookies. I also created a few different types of fruit bars, some fudge, pralines, and chocolate truffles.
I was enjoying myself so much that when I finished I worried I may have made too much. But I was relieved to learn that was not the case. The lunch rush was again busier than the day before and I sold nearly everything I had prepared.
We closed at 3 again, and I stayed for several hours preparing for the next day. As I was getting ready to wrap things up and leave I heard a knock at the front door. I peeked out of the kitchen and saw a businessman in a suit standing on the other side of the glass door.
“I realize you’re already closed,” he said as soon as I opened the door “but I just got off work and I spotted that soccer ball cake through your window. It would be absolutely perfect for my son’s birthday party tomorrow and I was wondering if there was any way I could talk you into selling it to me.” He finished looking hopeful.
“Of course!” I exclaimed and stepped back to allow him inside. I boxed up the cake and he insisted on paying me double what I would have normally charged since I had been willing to open the door for him after regular business hours. Finally I closed up the shop and headed home exhausted again, but loving every minute of it.
The weeks passed, each day se
emingly busier than the one before. At first my customers were mostly people who lived or worked in the area, but as my reputation grew people began going out of their way to stop by my shop and try something.
Within the first month I was already taking orders for specialty cakes. The gentleman who had purchased the soccer ball cake had returned to rave about how much his family had loved the cake and to beg that I design a ballet themed cake for his daughter’s recital. My cake decorating reputation spread quickly. In addition to my regular bakery business I was taking cake orders nearly daily and working late into the evenings baking and designing cakes.
I was making more money than I could have ever dreamed possible, and I was glad that I could afford to pay Amy a decent salary. I couldn’t have done any of it without her. She helped wherever I needed her, from answering the phone and running the register to making trips to the store when I ran out of ingredients. We were a team, but as much as I appreciated her I still felt guilty for keeping her from pursuing her career goals. She spent nearly as much time in the shop as I did and I couldn’t imagine how she had time for anything else.
“Have you sent your portfolio out recently?” I asked her one day between the morning and afternoon rush.
“Not really” she admitted
“Amy, as much as I appreciate your help I don’t want to keep you from your dreams! This is my dream, not yours. And you shouldn’t give up on yours just to help me with mine.” I tried to make eye contact as I spoke, but she just stared at the far wall.
“I was thinking…” she started, still staring at the wall “we need to dress the place up a bit”
That was not the response I was expecting. I realized she was trying to change the subject.
“That wall is too plain” she continued gesturing to the wall that was the focus of her attention “I heard about this guy who does amazing murals. We should hire him to paint it for us.”
