Wildly Driven

Chapter 12

My scratch on the forehead was making me itch it like a dog. Though everything seemed fine and it was a normal sunny day outside, there was something nagging me behind.

I had called Dad again, but it had gone straight to voicemail. I assumed he was still sleeping, for it was seven thirty in the morning. And since he was a heavy-eyed bear to hear the ringtone, I assumed that he hadn't heard it. I slumped the bread toasts into the hot box for him if he came home while I was working.

I made my way towards the coffee shop making sure that I had locked the door properly. Walking the lonely streets, I reached the shop. The aroma of the coffee had pushed my negative thoughts away and I was feeling a bit uplifted.

"Good morning, honey." Mira spoke thorough the kitchen. The shop was a bit packed, but it was not anything that Mira couldn't handle.

She was typing in the receipt for the customer who was standing in front of her. She ran to the kitchen half way in between the typing and twirled the batter for the cupcakes. For her age, she was pretty hard worker.

"Busy morning, huh?" I asked as I wrapped an apron around me. I walked past her and started looping the spoon in the batter. It was a recipe that she hadn't passed on to me. "I'll take care from here."

"Thank you, Scarlet." Her motherly affection made me smile. "Can you take over the queue? I'm not fast with the typing."

"Sure." I said as she smiled sheepishly taking over the reception. "Any items going empty?"

She gave me a list of things that were depleted for the morning. I memorized them and put up a small notice board at the counter to let the customers know that we were out of stock for the morning.

By the time I was done with taking the orders, Mira had finished the baking. She wiped her hands on her white apron getting the batter swiped on the sides. Her gray curls had come off from her bun and were dangling as she turned around. Though she was old enough to be my grand aunt, she had a zeal in her which most of us—even in our young age—lost. That was what I admired the most about her.

"You are done there?" She called once she found she had cleaned the place from her previous jobs. "I need a hand here."

Though I was a worker there, she had never once demanded work from me. It was as if she was asking for some extra help and she was very kind about it. The fact alone put me at ease and it felt as if I was working with someone whom I had known for years.

"Of course, Mira." I called back, dusting the wrinkle in my apron. "I've taken the orders and have asked them to wait for a second."

"Hope this takes a second too." She smiled nervously, pulling her hair behind her ears.

She put the butter in a big bowl and added a spatula full of sugar. Mixing it proportionately, she added a drop of essence to it.

"Are you making cream?" I asked curiously, watching her do her work with much dedication.

"Yup." She said, sticking her tongue out of her mouth in concentration. "Now, I'm going to put it in a plastic cone so that it becomes easy for the creaming."

"That is really cool." I gushed. It really was. Perhaps that was the reason behind the dreadful rush of customers.

"You had drawing in your school?" She put the cone aside and looked at me, but she wasn't looking for my answer. "You are going to design the cakes."

"What?" I was sure my eyebrows had shot upwards. "I will be a mess, Mira. I will take care of the serving part."

"Get on with it, Scarlet." She said sternly and I had to obey. "Cut the hole below according to the size in which you want the design."