Big things in my life… they’ve always been predicated by a knowing. By half-waking dreams of what’s to come, what might happen —and it’s always terrified and soothed me, because it at least gave me a modicum of control.
And because of that, I know, without a doubt, that Caleb and I only end in unhappiness.
It’s a curse.
Maybe.
“Maybe it’s a good thing,” I tell Gunner, and he gazes up at me with liquid eyes. “You know? That I know we can’t be together.” I swallow past the lump in my throat and set my worn leather purse on the desk next to my laptop. “I need coffee. You want some coconut milk steamed?”
Gunner gives me a doleful look that tells me he sees right past my distraction techniques.
“Work will help,” I mutter under my breath. A busy day is just what I need.
A pale blue and white seersucker apron hangs on a peg next to the swinging door that leads to the tiny kitchenette where I make the store’s confections.
Gunner sighs heavily, like the weight of the world is on his doggy shoulders, and I hear his nails click on the floor before the couch groans in protest of his familiar weight.
He’s not allowed in the kitchen area, but sometimes he’ll nap in the shop in a patch of sunlight by the front windows. I make a mental note to re-up the spell that keeps him from shedding in the store as I tie the apron around my waist.
There’s not much I need to make.
Fudge? I made several batches yesterday. Walnut, peanut butter, hazelnut, and my personal favorite, double chocolate.
Toffee? Still have plenty.
Sour cherry drops? I’ll need to make some next week, but right now, we’re set. They’re my favorite, so I always make sure we're fully stocked. A quick peek tells me there are still plenty of the other hard and gummy candies, and we’re set with the specialty ribbon candy I buy from another confectioner, too.
“Oh, duh,” I say out loud, looking at the whiteboard calendar that takes up half the wall.
The macarons. Duh. I made all the meringue shells yesterday, in a bevy of pastels, along with some richer hues to experiment with a new gel coloring supplier.
I just need to make the fillings and sandwich them all together before I open in a couple hours. Easy peasy.
“Coffee first.” I have a fancy espresso machine in the storefront, and it’s an addition that’s helped keep locals coming through. The Second Cup, the local coffee shop, is only a couple doors down from me, but keeping a few candy-inspired lattes on the menu seems to encourage more people to stop in during off-season.
And once they’re through the door, it’s pretty hard for them to say no to whatever’s currently displayed in the curved glass display counters and tiered cloches.
Grinning to myself, settling into my routine, I can almost forget the fact that Caleb’s back in town.
Almost.
I shrug, stepping through the doors to the storefront, the tightness in my chest that’s been there since I spotted him loosening as the mint green and light pink interior soothes me.
I love my tiny postage stamp of a candy store.
The floors are a vintage black and white pattern, the walls a seafoam green, lined with bleached wood shelves. Clear acrylic jars of every shape and size nestle on the walls, brimming with colorful hard and gummy candy, festooned with silk organza bows. Tiny wood scoops sit next to each, while large wooden tags hang from each bow, telling the story of what’s in each confection.
Because each one has a story, of course they do.
That’s the magic of Sugar & Salt; the story my customers tell themselves every time they decide they want a treat.
It makes it special.
I get the espresso machine set up for my requisite pistachio latte, turning on the classical music I prefer for early mornings, this time, the soundtrack to the 2005 classicPride & Prejudice, and stare up at the ceiling and inhale the aroma of the espresso.
Thick pink crown molding frames the floral wallpaper I put up one weekend a few years ago, deciding the plain white ceiling needed to G O go.
Now it’s a swirling riot of flowers, in a rainbow of colors that complement the shop’s feel and cements the whole place as a pastel oasis.
