“Themostpopular,” she says. “I can’t make them fast enough.”
“I saw someblueberry onesin the case the other day. They looked delicious.”
“You always did like blueberries, didn’t you?” Inodsheepishly. “Well,I’ll just have to make some more, won’t I?”
“I can’t wait.”
She smiles proudly. “I did winfirst place in the annual baking contest three years in a row. My scones areneverdry.”
“What’s your favorite?” I ask.
“Vanilla bean.” She gathers ingredients from the fridge and a large bowl from one of the shelves.“Wanna help?”
I float to the other side of the table. “Oh…I wouldn’t want to mess up your prize-winning recipe.”
“It’s easy,” she says with a sing-song voice. “I’ll show you.”
She begins by adding flour, small cubes of cold butter, and baking powder into her bowl.She then mixes everything together gently with her hands.“Don’t over mix,” she tells me. “We want them airy.”
After pouring in some heavy cream and scraping fresh vanilla into the mix, she forms a ball of shaggy-looking dough and places it on a sheet of parchment paper.
“It’s nice getting to hang out together,” she says as she flattens the dough and cuts it into triangles. “Have you thought about whether or not you want to work here?”
I fumble with the hem of my sweater. It feels like a blanket of water sliding through my transparent fingers. “Yeah, actually. I think I would like that.”
The apples of Claudia’s cheeksrise. “I’mso glad! I think it will be great, Kennedy. Truly, I do.”
She reaches for a spare apron on one of the hooks nearby, then offers it to me. “This can be yours.”
I instinctively reach for it, but it slips through the fingers.
Claudia chuckles. “It will be here waiting when you need it.”
She places her tray of freshly cut scones to the side and starts the process over again.I watch as she goes through four more, then she stacks them all in a cooler.
“Once they’ve set for about five minutes,webake,” she says, continuing to instruct me through the process, thoughI’vedone absolutely nothing to help.
“I thought I was going to get to ice a bunch of stuff.” I peer over a fresh batch of cupcakesthat’sbeen cooling since I arrived.
“Those are muffins,” Claudia chastens.
Whoops.
I should probably learn to recognize the difference if I’m going to work in a bakery.
I watch my sister do her thing for another half an hour, then we hear a knock on the front door.
“That’s probably Simone,” I say, heading to the front. “I told her to meet me here.”
“Don't forget!” Claudia shouts after me. “Iwant you to come by the house tomorrow!”
“I will!”
Simone has her hands cupped around her eyes and pressed against the door. “Kennedy? You in there?”sheutters from the other side of the glass.
I float through the display window on Simone’s right side. Shedoesn’tnotice me until she pulls away from the door and reaches for her phone. “Oh, hey girl!”
“I’m glad I didn’t scare you,” I say with a chuckle.
