Cory's Bakery

1 stick of salted butter, softened in the microwave to begin. Then mix together 1 ½ cups of granulated sugar, 1 ¼ cups of pumpkin puree, 1 large egg and 1 teaspoon of vanilla extract. In another bowl, mix 2 ½ cups all-purpose flour, 1 tsp baking powder, 1 tsp baking soda,1 ½ tsp cinnamon, and ¾ tsp nutmeg. Scoop with a spoon and place on a lined baking tray then bake at 325℉ for 15 minutes.

This is the first recipe I ever wrote down. I’d never been too fond of following recipes, since they always wound up stone solid or watery. When I created my own recipes though, I found that the freedom and chaos brought by my own experiments was the most exquisite feeling I had ever known.

I never planned on owning a bakery. In all honesty, I’d always wanted to be a paramedic, but I got injured and had to find a new way of making money. My younger sister Jasper, on the other hand, was able to go to school and study for her pilot’s license which made our parents and I extremely proud. Mom and Dad lived in a small village by the sea in Newfoundland and Labrador, so we never got to see them too often, except for the odd holiday or two.

We never minded though, since we grew up with them being constantly busy and unable to be there for us. They loved us unconditionally, of course, being there when we needed them most. When I came out, they got busier, but it wasn’t until the next Pride month that I realized they were busy planning to show how much they supported and loved me.

They set up pride decorations around the house and it brought me to tears to see the embarrassingly adorable thought they’d put into it. They even fought for me and made sure I was okay when someone made a comment or judged me in any way. When Jasper and I finally had a stable life on our own, they stopped helping with our financial issues and let us be alone, though they constantly called us at any possible moment.

When my sister moved to Kitchener to study, I stayed in Ottawa and ran my business, making a surprising amount of profit, especially during autumn. After starting school, though, she got pregnant. We made an agreement that I would help raise her daughter and she would finish school.

I went to parenting classes and taught Jasper what I learned since she had to study and went out to buy furniture, clothing, and anything else we would need for the baby. By the time she was ready to have Cory, my old office had been turned into a nursery with periwinkle walls and cloud grey furniture to match. A short, six-drawer dresser with a folded changing pad rested near the door with the crib opposite it. Stuffed animals decorated the entire room, covering the window nook where soft curtains braced the starch sun.

The day I threw her baby shower was the same day she went into labor, so we were both prepared, though the baby’s father was nowhere to be seen. He left her the moment she said she was pregnant, but she always wanted to be a mother so she had no doubts about having that baby. All of her friends that had come to the shower were in the waiting room until the doctor announced it was a healthy baby.

She was beautiful too. Her tiny fingers and toes curled up in the little hospital blanket the nurse wrapped her with and her small breaths made Jasper tear up with happiness and relief at the life she’d created.

My sister loved her baby like our parents had loved us, which was a little worrying after she graduated and became a pilot. I was able to be there for Cory and raise her, but Jasper barely saw her and was never able to keep a lot of the promises she made. So after a while, we agreed to stop making promises and instead try and make things work when they definitely would. My house was directly connected to the bakery so I was much luckier in raising her, though the nanny I hired, Andrew, was crucial for my day-to-day life.

Snap to five years later, Cory was in her senior year of kindergarten, Andrew helped at the bakery while she was away and also babysat her on weekends. Meanwhile, Jasper worked as a private pilot, spoiling her daughter from halfway across the world.

I woke up at 5 am, ten minutes before my alarm went off and I laid in bed until it did, which still made me jump from the blaring radio that came on. I tapped my phone screen and it blinded me before unlocking by face detection. I browsed social media for a couple of minutes then sighed as I dragged my warm, exhausted body to the edge of the firm bed, pushing myself off the pillow and tearing off the plush blue covers. Sunlight sparkled through the tightly closed emerald curtains and I swung one pair open on my way to the bathroom, the vinyl floors creaking silently.

The bathroom was covered in autumn and Halloween decorations just as the rest of the house, which matched the sky blue walls and bold white tiles. The rugs in front of the bathtub and sinks were coloured orange with pumpkins and even the decorative towels had adorable embroidered ghosts, chosen by Cory. Luckily for me, I had an amazing niece who loved Halloween as much as I did.

I washed my face and brushed my teeth, shoving my shoulder-length straight hair into a ponytail. I patted my makeup on and brushed a nude orange colour onto my eyelid then slid a dark pink lipstick over my lips. I never saw it very much when I looked at myself but everyone always said I was pretty. Maybe it was just because I was too used to myself to notice the way my ex-girlfriend said my eyes sparkled like the ocean on a sunny day, or how my sister once admitted I look nice in everything I wear. I never believed either of them. I finished with mascara and a dazzling golden highlight and headed back to my room, changing into a striped t-shirt and deep blue jeans.

I headed downstairs and made a large pan of scrambled eggs, ripping open a packet of orange powder which I mixed into a pitcher of water, stifling a sneeze from the dust that misted my face. The sun began to rise, the sky lighting up in different shades of golden pink and baby blue. I stretched, finishing off my orange juice and plate of eggs I had set for myself.

The door chimed and I peered around the kitchen corner, the dishes rattling in the sink as soapy water spilled over them.

“Morning Carmi,” Andrew exclaimed, jiggling the key out of the lock. He was tall and muscular, with a charming smile that most women fell for upon seeing it. He wore whatever he wanted, but his fashion of choice was typically jogger pants and layered shirts. His manicured nails were painted magenta and he donned a streak of red in his fluffy brown hair.

“You look like you had a good night,” I greeted back as he walked into the kitchen. He held his fingers in front of my eyes and wiggled them in the light so that the glitter at the top glimmered in the dim daylight.

“My sister's friend cancelled and I wasn’t going to let her go to the salon alone,” he beamed, his dimples meeting his brown eyes.

“Well, Cory will love them.”

“We’ll set up our own salon here,” he joked. “Is she still sleeping?”

“Obviously, that girl would sleep the entire day away if possible,” I remarked, drying my hands on a damp cloth.

Andrew grabbed a plastic plate with pumpkins on it from the cupboard and filled it with eggs.

“I'll take this up to the little tornado, have a good day at work,” Andrew exclaimed as he marched up the stairs and turned to Cory’s room. I looked around the room one last time, noting the doll hanging off of the living room chandelier and the cushioned sofa that had an ungodly amount of picture books resting on it, then I slipped on my sneakers and headed to the front door.

The steps at the door led straight to the bakery so I locked it behind me and headed down, each step creaking in a different tone while the tiles decorating them clucked when the hard rubber made contact. They’re dull in colour from the number of boots that have stepped on them.

I opened the door at the bottom of the stairs, just beside the storage room on the left. The lights flickered on as I hit the pink plastic switch, daylight grappling at the corners of tables and chairs as I pulled the blinds open. I headed to the kitchen, where industrial-sized fridges and mixing equipment sat, cleaned and sanitized.

I piled out bowls and ingredients to begin making my favourite pumpkin cookies. Everything was made from scratch so I would wake up much earlier than the bakery opened, ensuring all of the baked goods were up to my standards. I baked enough to fill the display cases which lined the entire length of the bakery, only a small stand in between for the cash register, desk and the entrance behind them.

Cory, Andrew, and I had also decorated the window-filled building for Halloween, with Cory making me promise to make ghost and spider cookies. I turned on the many coffee machines behind me, each with their own different blend, unlocked the thin oak cabinets, then refilled the sugar and cream packets on every table. Before turning the lock on the front door and flipping the sign around, I threw on some cute music from my “Cafe” playlist then laid out mugs for sale on the counter. I also snuck a tip jar in front of the register.

My first customer was inside within minutes, limping on his old metal cane painted blue by his grandson. Carl Miller stood hunched over in a striped dress, short and beige pants, with shiny black shoes to match. His hair was thinned but his smile was young, with the happy man I had seen in his old photos still adamant. His stormy eyes dazzled with a happiness I tended to see in kids whose parents let them choose their own cookie, or with newly married couples coming in for some tea.

“Good morning Carl,” I sang, popping my head from the back as I hung up my apron.

“Good morning Miss Willard, my usual please,” he chimed back, placing his five-dollar bill on the table.

“One chocolate coffee and a cinnamon muffin coming up.” He ordered the same thing every day since his wife passed. The coffee for her and the muffin for himself, which he would bring to her gravestone and stay with her for an hour or so before going to write more of his stories, which she had loved dearly. I knew her too, and it had broken my heart when she passed, but Carl would take me to visit her every week or so and we would reminisce about her.

I handed him his order as a line began to mold behind him and he tottered to a table. The next customer was a man who I’d never met and he left when he got his order, leaving a tip in the jar upon seeing the pride flag at the corner of the register. His dark hair and casual beige suit vanished into the crowd of people waiting for the bus, just across the street.

The next few customers came and left when they got their orders, taking advantage of the freshly baked goodies that decorated the cases. The line got shorter after a while, and so did the fall styled pastries. The morning rush finally wavered, which gave me enough time to head to the back and measure out more ingredients for new batches.

A ding sounded at the front of the store from the door chimes and I put down the spoon I was using to scoop batter into muffin trays. I walked out of the kitchen and found a woman in a raven-tailored suit standing in front of me. Her hair was a mahogany red and her blue eyes shone like diamonds and she wore a morning scowl on her face but it was obvious she was not a mean person.

“Welcome to Cory’s Bakery, what can I get for you today?” I asked, a cheery note in my voice that seemed to catch her attention.

“Hey, what’s the best thing here?” she replied, a kind smile growing on her crimson coloured lips.

“That depends on what you like,” I joked back, looking over the products I made. “I make a pretty good strawberry shortcake, which are those small slices there and some nice cheesecakes. Since it’s early I would recommend any of the pumpkin spice pastries or maybe a crescent roll?”

The woman thought for a minute, her eyes wide with curiosity then smiled up to me when she decided on her order.

“I’ll have a slice of strawberry shortcake and the chocolate cheesecake,” she stated and I grabbed a box to fit them into. While I grabbed the tongs and slid open the display door, welcoming the cool air onto my face, she continued. “Then, in a separate box, I’d like six pumpkin muffins and all of your pumpkin cookies.”

I stopped in my tracks, a deconstructed box in my hands. I slowly turned my head to face her and noticed that her expression was serious. I packed up the fluffy pumpkin spice muffins with cinnamon cream and looked to her one last time for confirmation.

“You sure you want all of them? There’s, like, thirty,” I stated as I slowly slid the door open.

“My boss loves the cookies from here and she’s having an early Halloween party with her family,” the woman explained. “Since she knows nothing about family dinners, she asked me to help out.”

That explained a lot. My best customer Lola Wildes, the CEO of a fashion corporation, was nowhere to be seen today. In the fall she always ordered three pumpkin spice cookies and a french vanilla latte, which I named the “Lola special” as she was the first person to ever order from me. I didn’t want the cookies to be stale for her party though, since they would just be sitting alone all day.

“Why don’t I just make a batch for you to pick up? That way the cookies won’t get stale.”

The woman smiled happily. “That sounds amazing, let me just write down my number…

Her voice trailed off and her eyes looked to the door behind me. I turned and found Cory standing there, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

“Morning sweety,” I called as she walked up next to me, holding out her hand.

“Cookie?” I asked.

She nodded, her tangled hair bouncing with her.

Cory is the spitting image of her mother, with curled ash blonde hair and ivory skin. She decided to wear one of my blue shirts with David Bowie embedded on the front, his name underneath, and red and black plaid leggings. Her hair was crazy that morning, sticking up at all angles and covering most of her little face. She brushed it out of the way as I handed her a chocolate chip cookie with spiders drawn in icing on top.

The door swung open and Andrew beamed, finally finding the runaway, his cheeks flush from chasing after her.

“There you are, you mischief maker!” he cried, a brush in one hand and a pair of flats in the other.

“Love, why don’t you have shoes one?” I scolded, noticing her bare feet. Andrew hugged her tight, making both her and I laugh. He looked at what she was holding then back to me in shock.

“A cookie? At seven in the morning?” Now I was the one getting scolded.

“She has to go to the doctor today, I’m just congratulating her beforehand,” I shrugged, a smirk playing on my lips as I looked back at my customer.

She was watching us with distant happiness and snapped out of it the moment I turned to her. I shook off the fact that she might have been looking at me, though it was harder to lose the curiosity if she was. Even more so, the fact that I almost wanted her to.

“Sorry,” I laughed, looking back at my niece, “she can be a handful in the morning, so Andrew usually gets her to the park at this time.”

“You have a lovely family,” she reassured.

“Oh it could be better,” I chuckled, then continued when she looked confused. “My sister doesn’t come often to visit so she always misses her. I got lucky with Andrew though, he’s an astounding babysitter.”

The woman’s oval eyes widened a bit more in surprise. “Oh, so you two aren’t…

I laughed hysterically at that and he looked up from where he was wrestling on Cory’s shoes.

“We are most definitely not a thing,” he stated, disgusted by the woman’s notion.

“Yeah, guys aren’t exactly my type.”

“Yeah, Auntie likes pretty girls like you!” Cory cheered, making Andrew’s mouth drop in surprise.

I turned back awkwardly to the woman, who somehow looked completely cool and collected, smiling back at me confidently.

“Well maybe I like pretty girls too,” she whispered, then immediately blushed at her own remark

I laughed and could hear how Andrew stifled a laugh behind me, going back to tying Cory’s shoes. I pulled out a pen and paper from under the desk then slid it over to her, where she wrote down her name and number quickly.

“You can just call my personal number for today, what way you have it in case I haven’t embarrassed myself too much already,” she mumbled, paying for her boxed pastries.

I smiled while she walked out the door, but felt my knees get weak right after it closed. I sank under the desk and my smile grew tenfold, my cheeks cramping from its weight. The paper in my hands read the name Erin Henry. I looked over to Andrew who’s still in amazement from what had just happened. Cory’s head tilted curiously while she examined my expression and I promptly tackled her into a hug.

“You need to come ask for cookies more often!”