Page 89 of Love, Magic and Misfortune
Now
With a few days left before the New Year, Simone’s bakery, Le Petit Sweet, was still lit up with sparkling blue faery lights. They were strung all across the ceiling, hung in a scalloped fashion that reminded Violet of ocean waves. The glass case shone bright in the warm darkness, illuminated further by the soft yellow glow radiating from the entrance to the kitchen.
Simone was back there, bustling about and banging cabinets and dishes as Violet waited at a table. It was dark out: the shop closed for the day. The black iron street lamps outside the large windows shone bright white. A car or two passed by, the thrum of rubber on wet pavement muffled inside the warm shop. Violet inhaled, smiling at the distinct scents of nutmeg and cinnamon, buttercream and sugar floating through the air. She pulled her sweater even tighter around her body, the material long and beautifully patterned like a thick blanket.
She sighed. She loved this little town.
“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” Violet called.
“No, ma’am.” Simone walked through the door with a tray. Once she was at the table, she set it down and Violet helped her remove the two mugs, glasses of water and glossy iced cinnamon rolls. They looked perfectly soft and melty, so Violet swiped her finger across the top of her dessert and put it in her mouth. The rich, creamy icing was still warm.
After setting the tray on the counter, Simone sat down in the chair across from Violet, beaming. “Okay, this is the new tea I want you to try. I’m thinking of introducing it as the tea of the month in January. I’m calling it ‘Roseberry.’”
Violet leaned over the teacup, bringing her face down and inhaling so that the steam left a little condensation on her nose. “Mm, it smells pretty. I can smell ginger… and basil? Did you use the things from Gram’s pantry?”
“Ooh she’s learning ya’ll. Yes. It has dried elderberries, calendula flowers, basil leaves, rose petals and a little cinnamon and ginger root. I added some healthy elements since, you know, cold and flu season. I want it to be wintery and comforting. Make sure you add a little honey.”
Violet did just that. When she took a sip, the flavors swirled against her taste buds and warmed her from head to toe. She shimmied her shoulders. “Simone, this is delicious. Like winter flowers in a teacup.”
“Mission accomplished. I have some extra from the experimental batch that you can take with you, if you want. Share it with your cute friend with the gray eyes.”
“Aw, thank you.” Violet smiled, clasping her mug with both hands. “I’m so happy you moved here and opened this shop. It’s like my dream—being good friends with the local baker. Being her guinea pig for incredible treats.”
Simone laughed, pinching off a piece of cinnamon roll with her fingers. “I think most people want that, but with a local bar. Free liquor and all that.”
“I do like my wine, but if you put a cupcake in front of me, it’ll win every single time. So, tell me about when you worked at Mère Macaron. You baited me with it a week or so ago but didn’t finish the story. And how was your date with René?”
Holding a finger up, Simone finished chewing her generous bite of dessert, then lifted her glass of water and took a long pull before sighing. “I worked there a long time ago when I was fresh out of high school. Vi… I was a complete mess. I didn’t want to sit for college exams, but my parents were pressuring me to go. I just wanted to bake and be around pâtissiers so I could learn and have my own shop one day, you know?”
“You could have gone to university to study culinary arts?”
“My parents didn’t want that. My father wanted me to be a dentist, of all things. He owns a practice and wanted me to take over for him someday, but I just couldn’t. If I had done what they wanted and walked that path, I knew I would be dead on the inside. A walking zombie.”
Violet nodded, pulling off a piece of her own roll. “I understand completely.”
“It was a guaranteed path for me, but I just couldn’t, and it broke my dad’s heart. I also decided to start transitioning during that time, so my head was just a mess. But I got a job at Mère Macaron, and the position started on the exact same day that I was supposed to sit for my exam. So I took that as a sign. It was fate.”
“Obviously,” Violet agreed. “So how was the job? Was it amazing?”
“Oh, Vi, it was hell. Amazing, but hell. I worked insane hours for very little pay. Up before dawn, then walking home in the dark again when the moon was high, only to get up a few hours later and start the whole process over.
“I was exhausted but learning so much and finally doing what I had dreamed of. I wasin it—the smells and the flour dusted all over my apron, the powdered sugar and raw dough underneath my fingernails. I’ll never forget that experience. It was life-giving at a time when I desperately needed something tangible to hold onto.”
“How are things between your parents now, considering what you’ve achieved?”
Simone took a sip of her tea, then sighed. “My mother comes here once a month and has coffee with me. We talk and catch up. She’s very supportive of all my life choices. Father is still bitter. When I opened the shop, he called me and told me congratulations. We talked a little then and he told me he loved me. But our relationship has been different—strained ever since I told him I wouldn’t be taking over the dentist office. It makes me sad, but it is what it is.”
Violet considered. “I think sometimes people have kids because they want them to be miniature versions of themselves. Almost like… extreme narcissism.”
“This is absolutely the case with my father,” Simone agreed. “My dad always wanted to play piano when he was growing up, but they couldn’t afford it at that time. So guess who plays piano?”
“You?”
“Me. Whether I liked it or not, he made me learn. Guess who also played baseball all through middle school because Dad loves him some baseball?”
Violet shook her head. “Oh man…”
“I wanted to join the swim team in high school. Dad said, ‘Nope, it’s baseball for you, and you’re good at it.’ I was, but I wanted to try other things. Experiment, you know? Wasn’t happening.”
