Merry Little Christmas

11. Risk

December 13, 1951

Risk is good. But only to a degree. Mama said a couple days prior. But what happened to that voice inside her head that made her go crazy? A perspective changed inside of her.

"Go." She instructed, pointing to a small building. 

"But.. but why?" Isabella questioned, smiling. She didn't know why she asked, she wanted to go inside anyways.

"Just go, it's for our own good." She said, leaving Isabella in an excited mood.

"Okay," She smiled, running to the little bakery across the street known to be Crumbs and Bites. It was near midnight. The bakery was closed two hours ago, and now was Isabella's time to go to the bakery. The family was starved, they hadn't eaten a single crumb in twenty-four hours. The family was desperate, and that's where it all took place.

It was a win-win. Isabella would get to go inside the bakery and whip up the cookie bars, and the family wouldn't be starving anymore. She had kept the 'key' with her at all times in her jacket pocket, just in case she would have to go inside again. And once she heard little clicking noise, she crawled inside the bakery.

The little bell on the door rung quietly. She smiled, and inhaled the warm air that smelled like baked goods and frosting. She spun around the room, and took her jacket off. It was divine. It was amazing to be reunited after a long time. 

"Wow." She whispered. She thought she was never going back in this place again. 

Isabella walked around the room trying to look for an apron. "There!" She whispered, putting the cloth around her. She giggled, it was too big on her. She went to look in the mirror. She gasped. 

Isabella had never looked inside a mirror in so long; her skin was pale. Her curly hair was down her back now, and her body was so thin and frail. Instead of growing a solid two feet like Andrew once told her, it was if she had shrunk. She was already tiny to begin with, now she was tinier. She gently touched the mirror with her hand, a tear streaming down her face. She had changed immensely. 

But she brushed it off as if it didn't bug her. She took a deep breath, and walked into the kitchen to do what she was told and nothing more. She grabbed the pots and pans from the rack and the measuring cups along the way, placing them in a particular order. 

It felt different; instead of feeling happy as per usual, she felt scared. She felt scared of being caught. Her family allowed her to come back to the bakery, not for entertainment, but as a way to survive. If this was taken away from her, not only would she not be able to go inside again, but fail her family.

She continued without slowing down. Instead she hurried up, making her way through faster as another minute passed. The measurements slowly became inaccurate and the dry ingredients were accidentally mixed in with the wet ones. But then after a time it all came to an end. A crash. 

She moved slower. Her eyes were sagging. Her body trembled. She placed the goop into the oven, setting the timer. It was out of her control. As much as she tried to fight it all off, she couldn't. She didn't know what time it was. But she didn't care. Isabella sat down on the hard floor, and fell asleep.

❆ 

Isabella woke up the next morning regaining consciousness. She froze, hoping no one was there. She looked around the room. 

"Oh no," she whispered to herself, as she looked inside the oven. "where are they?" She tiptoed across the room, hoping that no one would notice a little girl walking around in an empty bakery, looking out of place.

"You there!" A man with a familiar voice yelled. She turned around, closing her eyes, then reopened them. It was baker Adam. 

"Hey," She whispered, waving her hand shyly. She blew it. She should've been more careful. It was her first day back. She had one chance, and she blew it.

"I uh, I tried your cookie things. They were good." He said calmly. Isabella looked confused. He's not mad? She thought to herself.

Isabella tried to think. She thought she had placed the wrong measurements inside? She shrugged. "T-thanks." She blushed, trying to play it easy.

"Yeah, and I was thinking, maybe you should come here more often?" he offered, leaving Isabella shocked.

Isabella stood and stared. "Like, as a job?" 

"Yeah, sure. Anything for more customers." 

Isabella smiled. With no hesitation she said, "Yeah that's great!" She laughed. "Thank you so much!" She went closer to him and shook his hand. "Do I start today?" 

He accepted the shake. "Yes, please if you are available." 

"Yes! Yeah, I'll be right back. I have to tell my parents!" She grinned, running to the door and waving her hand. She rushed to her parents jumping up and down in the snow which seemed to be giving to effect on the girl. 

"Isabella!" Papa yelled. As soon as she came closer, she earned a confused look from him. "Wait, what's going on?" He asked confuddled.

"I'm a baker!" Isabella laughed and twirled in the air. "Baker Adam, he tasted my bars and he said he wants to hire me!" She sang. 

Mama rose from her spot. "What?" 

"Yeah! And he's giving us real money, mama! Real paper money!"  

Niall jumped with her. "Yay for Isabella!" He giggled, twirling around with her. 

"What did I say?" She put her hands on her hips. "Risk is good." She ran back inside the bakery leaving her family alone with their thoughts. Mr. and Mrs. McCarthy looked at each other. 

"Risk is good." They both smiled, and for what seemed like the longest time, settled into the snow waiting for the good to happen, and the bad to pass.

For once they had a break. Like everything was actually going to be okay. There were no more questions about it. Their life was going to start again.