Page 22 of The Lone Wolf Café
Lined up in front of me, sprawled out on baking sheets all the way across the counter, were dozens of baked goods. And they were all made with chocolate chips.
Cookies. Muffins. Scones. Even whoopie pies with chocolate chips in the filling, although they’d turned out lopsided and messy. Between all the baking sheets, the counter was dotted with sugar, flour, and globs of stray whoopie pie filling. Mavro was sniffing a chocolate chip that had fallen on the floor, and I promptly shooed him away. I had no idea if weasel-shaped fire elementals could eat chocolate without getting sick, and I didn’t want to find out.
The little weasel did, however, scowl at me when I helped myself to one of the slightly misshapen chocolate chip cookies.They were thick and chewy, just the way I liked them, and I laughed as Mavro let out a disapproving squeak.
“What? It’s just one cookie.”
His flames intensified until they were nearly glowing white.
“Alright, alright. I’ll give you an extra piece of charcoal if you stay quiet.”
Ten minutes and one happy, charcoal-bribed fire elemental later, I loaded the cooled sweets into the pastry case with Mavro on my shoulder. I prayed Rowena wouldn’t notice I overfed him. Thankfully, she was far too enthralled with the full pastry case to notice the weasel licking charcoal dust off his fiery little mouth.
“This is fantastic!” Rowena exclaimed, clapping her hands together. I smiled. It was the most excited I’d seen her since arriving in Wisteria Grove.
“How do they look?” I asked.
Rowena reached into the glass case and pulled out a cookie. She took a large bite, chewing for several seconds with a contemplative expression on her face.
“Well, they taste delicious,” Rowena replied, licking chocolate off her lips.
“So that brings me to my next question…” I frowned. “How are we going to persuade people I’m a kitchen witch? I can’t exactly cast a spell on these.”
Rowena nodded, swallowing before she spoke. “Oh, I have a plan for that. Have you ever heard of something called the Placebo Effect?”
“Uh… no.”
“It’s a human-made concept. It means if someone thinks a remedy or cure will fix them, it actuallywillfix them. Simply because they believed it would.”
“And that works?”
“Well… with little things. We’ll say your offerings today help with relieving anxiety.” Rowena took another bite of the cookie. “After all, sweets do that anyway. At least for me they do.”
I contemplated Rowena’s words as she walked away with the rest of the cookie.I suppose it could work.I remembered all the times I’d injured myself as a young child, and my father would offer my cuts and scrapes a kiss to make them heal faster. I knew nowadays it was all phony and kisses didn’t heal wounds, but as a kid, they made me feel better.
Once Rowena disappeared into the back kitchen, I shot Mavro a smug glance.
“See? I’m not the only one who helped themselves to a cookie.”
Mavro huffed, tiny wisps of smoke drifting out of his nostrils.
With the pastry case full and ready for hungry customers, I walked back into the kitchen and started the substantial task of cleaning up the mess I’d made. I tossed the dirty parchment paper in the trash, wiped all the flour, sugar, and icing off the counter, and began placing ingredients back in the cupboards.
When I picked up the butter and milk, I let out a low sigh of dread. I needed to go back through the portal to put them away, and as much as I loved seeing Fritzi, I hated how icy and freezing the top of Mount Katahdin was.
Thankfully, Fritzi was waiting for me when I opened the door, and I persuaded her to run both items back to the den in exchange for an extra ice bone. She happily agreed, and I giggled as the little fox-like creature scampered through the snow with the butter and milk clenched in her icy jaws.
I gave Fritzi her promised treats, making sure I wasn’t caught by Rowena in the process, and continued cleaning up the rest of the kitchen.
By the time I was finished, I could hear customers bustling around the café. I opened the back door and found Rowena still outside, sitting in an old rocking chair and sipping her no-longer-steaming cup of tea. Her eyes were locked on the autumn forest beyond the café, and she looked deep in thought.
“Uh, Rowena?”
She startled, as if I’d snapped her out of a trance. “Oh, sorry, yes?”
I jabbed my thumb back toward the café. “Customers.”
“Oh goodness!” Rowena exclaimed. She burst out of her seat, nearly spilling her tea in the process, and scurried through the back door with her black cloak billowing behind her.
