Page 84 of Prayers for the Prickly

“Which flavor is this one?”

“Nope, that’s not how it works,” I explained. “I need to know what flavor you think it is after you taste it. I already know what it’s supposed to taste like, which biases the brain.”

“And explains why you’ve got all the labels facing toward you and I’m not allowed to touch the bottles.”

“Exactly. So, stay on your side of the bottle wall and wait to taste some spun sugar goodness,” I teasingly admonished.

“Works for me.”

I studied him while he studied the cotton candy machine with the same look of wonder I pictured our children having the first time they saw it. In my head, I pictured a boy with rich, wavy chocolate brown hair and Gregor’s impish smirk huddled between his siblings as they waited for their treat to be ready.

A swirl of a cone and I plopped the first cotton candy ball on the wax paper and quickly spun another before turning off the machine.

Moment of truth.

“All right, go for it,” I said, nudging one of the balls toward him before picking up the other. Color, consistency, everything looked and felt the way I’d hoped, melting beneath the heat of my fingers the longer they pressed into it.

Gregor didn’t waste time studying the cosmic purple color, the two shades, light and dark, had swirled together beautifully and truly given it a galaxy-like effect. He just took a bite and moaned, eyes going heavy-lidded as he sighed around the candy melting in his mouth.

“Ohh berry, berry nice,” he moaned, mouth working like he was sucking on it until it melted completely.

The tip of his tongue was a little purple when he licked his lips, but he’d properly identified the basic concept, and that was what I’d hoped for. The flavor that hit when I bit into mine was beautifully intense, not too sweet, but not too sour, either. Like biting into a cold, juicy berry on a hot day.

“Blackberry, but more,” Gregor muttered. “There’s blueberry in this, too, and something else, I swear I know the berry. It’s not cranberry, or raspberry either, damn, what the hell, we used to have them all the time when we went camping. What the hell was the name of those damn things?”

“Huckleberries?” I suggested, grinning and giggling as I squirmed a little in my chair.

“Yes, fuckin’ huckleberries, you put huckleberries in this, it’s fuckin’ amazing. I’m so glad you didn’t think purple and go for grape. Nothing against grape, it’s grape, grape’s a classic, who doesn’t like grape, but a trio of fuckin’ berries is fuckin’ brilliant.”

“I don’t think I have ever heard you drop that many f-bombs in a row,” I remarked after I’d finished my cotton candy ball. “You’d better not make it a habit or you’ll be the one sitting in the corner the first time one of the whelplets lets one loose.”

I loved the little blush that crept across the bridge of his nose as he licked the stickiness from his fingers.

“I know, and I won’t, but that was amazing.”

I’d nailed the profile. Fucking nailed it for him to lose control of his language that way. Him and that sweet tooth of his was already eying the bottles, waiting to see what flavor I’d choose next. Before I could do that, I used the stick to clean what was left of the triple berry cotton candy from the machine, swirling it into a smaller ball I gave to him while I set up for the next flavor and gave myself five stars for the last one.

We worked our way through the afternoon that way. Tangerine, lime pickle, watermelon, manic melon, which was another triple blend, this one involving cantaloupe, honeydew, and Casaba melon, which in both of our opinions hadn’t tasted melony enough. I made notes about potential alternatives in addition to adding more flavoring into the mix. The watermelon needed tweaking, too, like the manic melon the flavor had been just too weak.

Once the novelty of the process wore off, Gregor pulled out his sketchbook and started working on one of his projects, pausing each time I had a new flavor for him to try. I’d noticed him pressing the tiny bits of overage I gave him after each batch in a ball of sugar he was collecting and wondered what the hell he had planned for it.

“Hey, I meant to ask if you wanted to go out for dinner tonight,” he blurted midway through the spinning of apple juice, a blend of sour green apple, honey crisp and macintosh. “There’s a little Italian restaurant by the maritime museum that has some amazing seafood dishes.”

Yes, yes I had done a lot of flavor blends for this, but plain old cotton candy flavors would be what the crowd expected and I was making my reputation off giving them the delightfully unexpected and dazzling their pallets with how much fun it could be to step away from the tried and true.

“Ohh, cheese and seafood together, that just sounds yummy.”

“I’ll set it up then.”

I turned my attention back to the apple juice balls while he made the reservation, his sample ready by the time he got off the phone. Six thirty would be perfect and give us a chance to shower after we cleaned up the machine. I’d definitely need his help for that.

“Hmmm, can you bottle this? Holy shit,” he moaned when he bit into it. “Apple, all the apple, like getting fresh juice from the orchard, this is perfect. Too bad there isn’t a boozy version of cotton candy because this right here in an alcohol form would be a huge hit on cider days.”

“Spiked cotton candy, what the hell?” I muttered, making a note as my mind whirled. “I mean, alcohol-infused sugar crystals are a thing so technically it would be possible, but that would take a type of licensing to sell I don’t have and another place to produce the batches since I wouldn’t be able to make them in the shop’s kitchen or on any of the machines.”

“True,” he muttered. “This is delicious, though.”

“And your idea had a lot of merit,” I said. “A cocktail line of cotton candy and maybe even a few other treats for adults would be absolutely amazing to pursue. I’ll be looking into the logistics. I can’t play with the flavor profiles for that until the whelplets are weened anyway. By then I’m sure a little cocktail tasting will be in order, and I’ll happily indulge in the name of product development.”

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