Life Happens | ONC 2024

Chapter 2

❅ Present.

BLANCHE

Opening up my business this morning, earlier than usual, has me in a twist. I need coffee, desperately. I've been sleeping badly and waking up early every day is not a good combo.

Tomorrow it is Halloween, and I need to get a bunch of products ready. Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I go through my to do list in my head. I love the holidays, and I always make themed goodies to offer my customers.

The bakery is something I dreamt about since I was younger. I used to talk my mother's ears off with all the ideas of a grown up tea party. Sadly, when my mom died when I was fifteen, the furthest thing from my mind was this project.

When I graduated highschool, and my dad and I were financially stable again, he decided to expand the hardware store, buying the building next to it. To offer me the key as I returned from culinary school.

I may have lost my mother at a young age, but my father did everything in his power to guide me through it all. Even the feminine questions he handled like a champ. Both devastated, we carried on together and did the best we could. I'm grateful for him every day.

I flick on the light and the first thing I get ready for is the dough I made yesterday for my voodoo cookies. It needs to be refrigerated so I can roll it out and use my gingerbread men cookie cutters. When I take them out of the oven, I leave them to cool before I pipe some scars and mummy bindings as decoration. For the finishing touch, a little soft candied heart in the middle of their chest.

When I'm onto my pumpkin cupcakes, piping the orange frosting in even layers to top off with a marzipan stem, the back door that leads to the kitchen creaks open.

"Good morning, Blanquita," Marisol stumbles in.

"Mari!" I'm startled when she suddenly appears behind me. "I was expecting you way later." I say, knowing she had a date through an app, which I forced her to go to. "How did the Tinder date go last night?"

My fiery latina employee hangs her coat next to mine, and shakes her dark curls free, before tying them in a messy bun.

"It didn't." She deadpans, reaching for her apron. I had them embroidered with the logo and a cute googly eyed cupcake.

"Did you spend the night with wine and telenovelas again?" I raise my brow, worried about her.

"Yes, the idiot ex has the kids, and I needed to unwind." She shrugs on her uniform. "From all the BS, you know?" She lifts her shoulders like it's no big deal, but I know that heavy look.

I put my piping bag next to the one wonky frosted cupcake and face my friend. Marisol Diaz is ten years older than me, has two beautiful kids, and a cheating bastard ex. The one she kicked to the curb, divorced after a battle royale between lawyers and the judge, still decided on joint custody for the children. Not an ideal situation, but she is ready to begin dating again.

"What happened?" I ask, weaving my arms over my chest.

She sighs deeply, prepping the table to mix the ingredients for the blueberry muffins. "The douchebag I had a date with arrived like thirty minutes late," Marisol says flatly. "When he finally saunters in, I'm on my second glass of wine."

"Okay," I answer, already not liking the guy and giving her my undivided attention.

"The guy looks nice, tattooed, taper fade cut. From the muscular arms, I could see that he works out." We both nod, knowing the type. "So, I'm like, let's give him the benefit of the doubt. Until I spot the faded lipstick on his collar."