Page 31 of Semi Sweet
“Again, don’t go shopping for clothes or anything yet,” Evan said, finishing his food. “But it sounds like they are really interested in finding a place for you.” He smiled at me, something else I rarely saw him do anymore. “See, I told you the world will be ours one day. You think we live well now. We won't have a care in the world.”
This is what you wanted.I told myself.Or it’s at least a compromise.
“Thanks,” I replied softly.
It was probably the best I could ask for given the circumstances. Maybe it would bring us closer together. If that was the case, why did my mind wander back to the letter in my backpack? Why did I hope the cupcake mystery was resolved before I’d have to leave?
***
The next morning, I was working on my reply to my anonymous correspondent while making it look like I was filing old paperwork. I was struggling with what to say when the lotto lady rolled up with a carriage. Typically the service desk was her first stop, so I was surprised to see her break her routine. The woman handed me a stack of yesterday’s tickets to check and replay. While we made small talk, I noticed a cake in a see-through container. It was chocolate with molten drips and decorations. My breath caught in my throat. Though it was different from any cupcake I’d received, there was something similar about the style and the extravagance.
“That’s an incredible looking cake,” I complimented.
“Isn’t it?” The woman looked at it almost lovingly. “It’s for my granddaughter’s birthday. Sean made a custom order for me. Got permission from the store manager and everything.” She went into an account of how one of her nephews was his roommate at culinary school and he’d told her when Sean transferred from Aspen.
I nodded and finished the lotto order, but my blood had gone cold.
“Well, thank you, sweetie,” she said. “I’ll make sure you get yours when I win.”
Not really caring if she heard, I replied softly, “You’ve already given me something. Probably more than you even realize.”
As soon as the woman and fancy cake were gone, I picked up the phone and dialed Russel at his podium.
“This better be good,” he said.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” I lied.
“You really can’t wait until your break?” he complained.
“No, otherwise I wouldn’t be calling.”
Russel heaved a sigh. “Go, I guess.”
I tried to keep calm as I tore the door open and walked in the direction of the food service section. What I’d just learned about the bakery manager didn’t mean that he was the one. It was now more likely than not, but I kept telling myself that he was the obvious answer. It couldn’t have been him. He would have to know what was at stake if he had feelings for me, but at the same time, he would have access to all the ovens and ingredients. He wouldn’t need to get permission from anyone if he was the one calling the shots.
I wasn’t sure what I was going to do as I approached the bakery. Did I have the nerve to confront him? Did I tell Beth and Max to come clean? I was practically shaking as I walked past the display case.
The bakery was empty, save Charlie, who was boxing muffins by the ovens. I had to walk over to him and call his name several times before he looked up. Apparently his ears were beginning to fail him.
“Where is everybody?” I asked.
The clerk squinted at me. “Quarterly meeting. I already had mine this morning.”
I was so frustrated, I wanted to punch a loaf of bread. What did I do now, wait until my shift was over? I would spiral out of control until then. I started to walk back towards the front end when I had a terrible idea.
Charlie could barely hear and it seemed that his vision wasn’t much better. Sean was in a meeting. I could check in the back for clues and then decide if I should confront him or not. Maybe I would find out that he was aiding someone else. Maybe it would be so absurd I’d feel like an idiot and go back to my booth and feel sorry for myself. Russel would think I was having gastro-intestinal distress, but what was one more thing for him to complain and gossip about at this point?
I exhaled and made my choice. While Charlie was absorbed in his tray of muffins, I snuck behind the counter and into a large room with walk-in freezers and refrigerators on one wall. There were industrial mixers and a few prep tables, as well as shelves and cabinets of tools, trays, and supplies. In a corner was a small desk covered with order forms and clipboards. I decided if I was going to find anything, that was the place to start looking.
The first things I noticed were several photos taped to the wall at eye level. One appeared to be Sean in black graduation robes with his arms around the shoulders of a middle-aged asian man and woman. Another was of a German shepherd, but it had been unceremoniously ripped in half.
The words of one of the poems bounced through my thoughts.I have a dog and I’m older than you.Was that another piece of damning evidence?
The last photo confused me a bit. It was of an empty, hunter green storefront with a large window. I assumed there was a special reason it was taped to the wall, otherwise it wouldn’t have been there.
I looked above the photographs and my heart began to beat quicker. Mounted on the wall in a special frame was a college diploma.The Culinary Institute of America confer upon Sean Sergeevich Mizuno the degree of Associates in Baking and Pastry Arts.So it was true, then. I tried to tell myself that this didn’t necessarily mean anything. Yes, it would explain the quality of baked goods I’d been receiving and how some of the cupcakes hadn’t been ones sold in the display case, but maybe Sean was being paid to make them. There had to be a reasonable explanation.
I backed away from the desk, but several of the papers that had been haphazardly stacked fell over. I cursed and went to scoop them up before I made things worse. There was an order form for a sheet cake, a training checklist, and an inventory spreadsheet covered in messy handwriting that was difficult to read. I recognized it, and I knew only one person in the department was responsible for inventory.
