Page 15 of A Fine Line

I turned to where Winnie had poked her head out of her light pink truck and waved a large bag of food for us to pick up. Rachel beside me stared down at her phone, unphased.

“Are you gonna get it?” I whispered.

“No, this is your thing,” she looked up from her device. “I’m just here for the wig. And the desserts.”

I groaned and stood straight with my head slightly tilted down, keeping my hood low over my eyes.

“Diiiiiccckkk!!!” Winnie shouted at ten times the volume, causing various eyes to glance around for whoever was supposed to grab their food.

Irritation began to grow behind my eyelids.

“I’m right here.” I announced my arrival and reached up and grabbed the hefty bag from her witch talons. Which were less talon-looking and more like soft, smooth skin with pastel green painted ends.

“Oh good, I worked extra hard on these, hope you and Autumn enjoy.” She smiled in a way I had never seen before. Then again she never smiled at me unless she was mentally plotting my demise, so maybe this was normal for the average person.

I wrapped two hands around the paper sack and lifted it up to her in thanks. My voice lowered an octave. “Thanks. We will.”

She hummed a response before doing a full one eighty and turning back to the ovens behind her.

Trekking back to the car felt like I was in a spy movie.; one where they had to cross enemies lines in a disguise to bring back the golden treasure or the blue monkey or whatever national secret they possessed. Only this time the treasure was flakey baked goods with light, creamy filling.

All I had to do was taste a couple, get an idea of what goes in there, and try to recreate it at home. If recipes were my downfall, then wearing a fake mustache and breaking down astolen dessert would be my uprising. And, unlike when I lost my brothers toaster, I felt zero remorse.

I reached Rachel’s car and raised the bag with a devilish grin.

She squealed in excitement and clapped her hands together. “You think she knew it was you?” Rachel asked in a hushed tone.

“No way. She may be into all that chemistry bs but I’ve got the upper hand on street smarts.”

Although, if we were being technical, she was the one who came out with the idea first, but that was irrelevant for reasons I couldn’t quite fathom at the moment.

“Okay, let’s do this. Your brother comes home in thirty minutes and I like to greet him at the door.”

“Gross.” I muttered. “I liked you better when you guys were just friends.”

Rachel nodded. “Fair.”

I quickly opened the bag, frustrated how much I admired the precision in her packaging. Tiny paper boxes with pink and white stripes on them, her logo on top. Each pastry wrapped delicately like a birthday present you go to unravel. We each grabbed a pastry: her a strawberry and mint cheesecake dish with some kind of cinnamon sugar chips, me with a basic cream cheese puff pastry.

“Alright, remember the purpose of this.” I eyed the dessert in front me.

The evil, tempting…almost sexy dessert. Can pastries be sexy? Or maybe it was just that Winnie made it, dipping her temptress hands right in the batter.

“No distractions.” I reminded Rachel, but mostly myself. “Take a bite, get in there, figure out the ingredients, come back.”

Rachel nodded slowly like she didn’t understand but went along anyway.

“Okay, okay.” I shook out my shoulders. “Three. Two…” I stared down at the cream cheese Danish resting in my hands and shudder.

Meanwhile, Rachel isn’t paying any attention to my countdown. She’s lifting her treat straight from the paper it was wrapped in up to her wide open mouth, ready and willing and-

“Wait!” I shouted and stuck a hand out to her, pausing the dessert an inch from her lips. “We should discuss funeral plans first.”

“Crew, is this really that serious?”

My face screwed into the most serious version of it I could muster. “As serious as it gets. I don’t care if I’m buried or cremated but I would like to serve birria tacos with corn tortillas, pepper jack, and a purple cabbage mango salsa on the side please.”

Rachel’s earnest face matched mine as she dipped her head in understanding. “Got it. I would like a twenty minute moment of silence with only Billy Joel playing in the background and please bury me with my Dreams 8track.”

---