When Amelia got back to the truck, she was surprised to see Lila sitting at the counter by the open order window while Beatrice Mooch furiously stirred what looked like their very best seller, the peanut-butter-and-jelly cupcake.
“Amelia!” Lila jumped up. “Are the kids okay? We heard on the news the school was locked down, but there was nothing else coming out of there. Was it…?”
“No.” Amelia patted Lila on the shoulder and rubbed her back. “I’ll tell you about it later. So what have we got going on here?”
“Amelia, I’d like to introduce you to Beatrice Mooch, our new assistant.”
“Miss Harley, it’s a real pleasure to meet you.”
“Where are you from, Beatrice?” Amelia asked, still surprised but not angry. How could she be when Beatrice Mooch continued to whip the batter while talking? Her cheeks were red with determination.
“Originally I’m from Rockford, Illinois.”
“Rockford, Illinois?” Beatrice’s heavy Midwestern accent was suddenly understood. “Any bakeries in Rockford?”
“None to speak of,” she replied seriously. “I studied at the Jacobson and Waters University in Rhode Island, where I got my Bachelor of Science degree in baking and pastry arts.”
“They have such a thing?” Amelia looked at Lila, who nodded while smiling proudly.
“Then I worked for the Emerald Bakery for two years,” Beatrice continued.
“The Emerald Bakery in Portland, Oregon? That place is one of the best pastry shops in the country.”
“Yeah,” Beatrice replied as she began to pour the batter into the cupcake tins. Amelia waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t.
“Beatrice, I hate to say it, but you sound like you would be much better at running the Pink Cupcake than me. Can I ask why you left Emerald Bakery?”
“Miss Harley, I yearn for something more. I yearn. Baking is my life. Emerald Bakery was fine if your passion was the traditional dessert. I learned how to make cookies, Parisians, macarons, layer cakes, tarts. But I could not explore. I could not take any chances because the reputation of the Emerald Bakery superseded any adventures in baking a pastry chef might have. It was stifling.”
“Did you get this speech too?” Amelia whispered to Lila.
“Kinda-sorta.”
“Miss Harley, I want to grow as a pastry chef. I want to take chances. My prep time for a red velvet cake is less than five minutes.”
“Wow. Five minutes to prep. I don’t even know what that means, but I’m impressed.”
“I thought that this might be where I belong. A cupcake truck on Food Truck Alley.” She finished pouring the batter, popped the tray in the oven, set the timer, and began cleaning her workspace for the next batch.
Amelia studied the girl. She was an odd addition, but there was something very likeable about the peculiar Beatrice Mooch from Rockford, Illinois.
“Lila did tell you what the pay is?”
“Yes, and it’s fine.”
“Beatrice lives off a trust.” Lila smirked again.
“Is there that kind of wealth in Rockford, Illinois?”
“No,” Beatrice’s lips were pulled down at the ends in a serious grimace as she cracked a few eggs into a clean bowl and began to beat them with the same fervor as the previous batter. “But there is in New York, where my grandmother lives.”
“Wow,” Amelia said, fascinated by this strange creature called Beatrice Mooch. “Beatrice, welcome aboard. Did Lila give you all the gory details about start time and…”
“Yeah. Miss Bergman was more than thorough in her explanation of what the job would entail, the pay, hours, and miscellaneous. It all sounds perfect to me.”
“I’m glad to hear that, Beatrice. You’ve come at just the right time.”
“There is one thing that Miss Mooch has requested,” Lila said as if she was trying not to laugh.
Amelia folded her arms and asked what.
“She does not want to work the counter. She wants to stay with the ovens.”
“It isn’t that I wouldn’t be happy to help if there was an emergency. But I’m not really a people person.” Without looking at the bowl, she looked at Amelia with a stony, serious face and added sugar with a pinch of salt. Amelia nearly lost her balance as she tried not to laugh.
“That’s quite all right, Beatrice. We can accept that, don’t you think, Lila?”
“I think we certainly can.”
Amelia and Lila were not just happy that Beatrice was such a fanatic for baking, but it was hard not to watch her maneuver about the kitchen. She was built like a bulldog, being heavy through the neck, shoulders, and chest but then tapering down to thinner yet sturdy legs. Her appearance might make a person judge her to be clumsy or awkward. But on the contrary, she floated around the kitchen like a butterfly delicately visiting each flower in a field.
When she left at the end of the day, she waddled to her single-person Smart car and drove away like a cartoon character, making a U-turn on the street before hitting the gas.
“You amaze me, Lila.”
“I amaze myself, Amelia.”