Page 62 of Sweet Somethings

Ten

"Juliette," Susan said. "We need more Wish cookies."

She stared at her assistant in confusion late Tuesday afternoon, realizing she'd been completely lost in thought. That had been happening a lot since she'd met Roman. She spent way too much time thinking about him. And last night's dreams had certainly been filled with his image.

"There's more in the back," she said. "I'll get them." She went into the kitchen and then brought out another tray of the popular cookies.

When she put them in the display case, an older woman with jet-black hair and bright-pink lipstick gave her a huge smile of relief.

"Thank goodness," the woman said. "I was afraid you were out of those cookies."

"How many do you want?"

"I'll take the whole tray."

"Really? All of them?" she asked in surprise. "There are thirty-six cookies here."

"And I have a lot of friends who want to make wishes. I'm Dolores Baker. I work at the Morning Glory Retirement Center. We're having a pre-Valentine's Day party tomorrow, and I can't tell you how many of the residents asked me if I was getting your Wish cookies."

"That's sweet," she said, grabbing a large box.

"My mother is one of those residents. She told me that fifteen years ago, as a widow, she bought a cookie from your father. She wished that she would find love again. It seemed impossible to her at the time; she was still grieving for my dad. But at the Valentine's Day Sweetheart's Dance, she met another widower, Malcolm Hodges. They started talking and they ended up married six months later. He made her happy for twelve years. Sadly, he passed away three years ago. I think these cookies are just what she needs to be hopeful again, even if it's just all fun."

She was touched by Dolores's story. "That's really sweet. I'm glad you shared that with me, and I hope these cookies bring a lot of happiness to all of your friends."

"I'm sure they will. And at the very least, they'll taste good."

She rang up the purchase, then said good-bye.

"I think that's it," Susan said, letting out a tired sigh as she finished with the last customer. "Busy day. And it looks like you're headed for an early morning with more baking. The orders continue to pour in. At some point, you may just have to say no. There's a limit to how much you can do."

"I can make it all work. I don’t need much sleep."

Susan gave her a doubtful look. "I think you should reconsider the dessert order for the Wayfarer restaurant. It's just too big. They want six toasted almond cakes and six molten lava chocolate cakes, and they called it in twenty minutes ago for tomorrow's lunch. What were they thinking?"

"They said they were hoping for a miracle. I'm going to give them one."

"And kill yourself in the process."

"I'll be fine." She paused, looking at the clock. "You can go. I'll close down."

"Are you sure? I hate leaving you to handle all this baking on your own, but you know I'm no good in the kitchen."

She nodded. She had tried to use Susan a few times, and she just didn't have the enthusiasm or skill set for baking. "You've already worked hard enough today. Go and be with your husband."

"Okay, but you do need to start thinking about getting an assistant to help with the baking. I know you don't trust anyone, but you only have two hands."

"I am thinking about it. I just feel like I can't sell anything I haven't made myself."

"You have to get over that."

"I'm sure you're right."

Susan took off her apron. "I've been meaning to ask—what happened with Doug the other night? You never said how your dinner was."

"It was fine."

"That doesn't sound very exciting."

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