Kate was baking cookies for three different birthday parties. Luckily, two customers wanted chocolate chip. But while one woman wanted actual cookies—four dozen for a kids’ party—the other wanted one giant cookie.
“Like a pizza,” the woman explained. “But with ‘Happy Birthday, Mike’ written on it. In red icing. He likes red. He also really likes golf. Can you draw a golf course on it?”
Kate talked the woman down from an entire golf course to just the putting green with a jaunty red flag.
She grinned as she hung up the phone. Culinary school had prepared her to work in a kitchen. But dealing directly with the public? That was a whole different skill set. She needed to be part baker, part psychiatrist, and part mind reader.
In between making cookies and breads, she created a color palette of pink royal icings. Another part of the job that was truly fun. She decided on a delicate shell pink for the gender reveal.
When the phone rang, Kate grabbed it—smearing several shades of icing on the handset and her apron. “The Cookie House, this is Kate.”
“I’ve got some news,” Maxi said rapid-fire. “Not good or bad. Just news.”
“Me too. I’ve been dying to talk, but the cookie orders are backing up. Head over before you go home. I have a little surprise. My way of saying ‘thank you.’”
“I know I said I’d miss having my very own cookie elf, but you don’t have to do that.”
“This isn’t cookies,” Kate said. “It’s dinner. Something I learned from a very talented Greek chef. Kreatopita. A meat pie. It’s got garlic and fresh herbs and a really flaky crust. And if you ever want a midnight snack, it’s just as good cold.”
“OK, now that I will take. Mi mami is out with her friends tonight. She tells everybody they play bridge. But I know they really play poker. Sometimes, even dominoes. But don’t tell her I told you. Good Cuban ladies don’t play dominoes.”
“However will you live down the shame?” Kate teased.
“That all depends on how much dinero she wins.”