Her perfect kitchen would be invaded by people who had no idea what they were doing, and she was actually sort of okay with that.
Even more surprising, she was trying something new. The organic food for babies and toddlers was completely out of her comfort zone. She’d nearly vomited when she’d agreed to the class, but she was going to do it. She figured an eighteen-month-old wouldn’t be as critical as Aaron.
Giving up control was a good thing, she reminded herself. At least it would be when she got used to it and stopped hyperventilating at the thought. Trying to keep control of everything had become a habit in recent years. Maybe it had been a way not to notice how out of control her marriage had become.
She returned to the oven and pulled open the door. The timer dinged just as she drew out the tray and set it on the waiting cooling rack.
Across the room, Violet groaned. “What are those? They smell amazing.”
“A brownie-cookie with a melted chocolate center.”
“I’m going to gain weight working here, aren’t I?”
“If I’m doing my job right.”
Violet grinned. “Tell me when they’re cooled. I want to taste one and make sure they’re okay. For marketing purposes.”
Jenna laughed. “Thanks. We wouldn’t want to risk serving our customers anything that wasn’t good.”
“Exactly.”
Jenna slipped the second batch into the oven and shut the door. Precisely two minutes after the cookies had come out of the oven, Jenna used a spatula to transfer them from the cookie sheet to a second cooling rack. She glanced at the clock. They were less than five minutes to the grand reopening.
What if nobody came? What if all the changes didn’t make a difference? What if she failed?
The swirling thoughts made her want to pound her head against the wall. Instead she forced herself to breathe slowly. Everything was going to be fine, she reminded herself. Her new plan was in place and it was based on making customers happy, rather than being everything she wanted the store to be. Even as she hovered, twenty dozen sugar cookies waited to be decorated for today’s class on decorating with spring flowers.
The table by the register held fifty brightly colored lunch-size paper bags Violet had bought at the dollar store. Inside some were the nonperishable ingredients for the sugar cookies. The others held the same for the brownie-cookies. Recipe cards were attached. Everything was premeasured in sealed plastic bags. All that was required were eggs and butter.
Next to the bags, stacks of mixing bowls, cookie sheets and cooling racks partially blocked printed schedules of the cooking classes for the next two weeks. Later in the week there would be a ribbon-cutting ceremony with members of the Georgetown Chamber of Commerce stopping by.
They’d done what they could do, she reminded herself. What happened now was up to the good people of Georgetown.
“It’s time,” Violet said as she walked toward the door. “Oh.”
“What?”
“There are people waiting outside. I hadn’t noticed.”
People waiting, as in customers? Jenna walked toward the front. Sure enough, there were five or six women standing on the sidewalk. As soon as Violet unlocked the glass front doors, they walked in.
Several of them held flyers or coupons in their hands. They looked around eagerly. A couple inhaled, then groaned.
“What are you baking?” one older woman asked. “It smells wonderful.”
Jenna smiled. “A brownie-cookie. I just pulled some out of the oven. Have a taste.”
She handed out the samples.
“Do you have the recipe?” another woman asked. “I came in for the sugar cookie class, but these are delicious.”
“We have recipe cards,” Jenna said, pointing to the front of the store even as she wondered if she recognized the woman. She might have been a retired teacher from her elementary school.
“We also have the ingredients ready if you want to buy those and make them at home yourself,” Jenna added. “You’ll need eggs and butter, but we’ve taken care of everything else.”
Violet walked over with a few of the bags in her hand.
“How clever,” a customer said. “I want one of each.”
“Me, too.”
A third woman eyed Jenna. “That apron is adorable. Are you selling those?”
By six o’clock, Jenna’s feet hurt and her back ached. She also felt a weird stretching sensation in her face, which came from having spent the whole day smiling. It was all pain she could happily live with, she thought as she watched Violet lock the front door. When she turned, they stared at each other, then both began to laugh.
“We did it!” Jenna said, bouncing on her already-throbbing feet. “I can’t believe how many customers we had.”
“I know.” Violet pointed to the lonely bag sitting on the table. “I figured the ingredient bags would be popular, but I wasn’t expecting them to go this fast. We’re going to have to make more for next time. People are going to tell their friends and we’ll have customers showing up, wanting to try what we’ve been cooking.”
Jenna sank into a chair. “Did you see those women with the cookies? They were so happy decorating.”
“Nearly everyone bought cookie sheets and cooling racks.”
The day had been crazy busy. She would have to come in early in the morning to restock shelves and prep for the next cooking class. If this kept up, she would need to hire a parttime person to prepare the bags and stock the shelves. Talk about a happy thought.
“You did this,” she said, turning to Violet. “You made it happen.”
“I helped,” the other woman corrected.
“If I’d been left on my own, I would have failed spectacularly.”
Violet studied her for a second. “Then I have a favor to ask. Say yes, and we can be even.”
Jenna smiled. “Unless you want a kidney, sure.”
Violet shifted uneasily, as if nervous. She fingered the bracelets on her wrist. “I have a date on Tuesday.”
“Is that all? Of course you can leave early.”
“No, that’s not it. I met this guy. Cliff. He’s nice. A business type.” She pulled a card out of her skirt pocket and held it out. “He has the kind of job where they give you business cards.”
Jenna took the card and studied it. She couldn’t see anything noteworthy about the information. Cliff worked for a big financial firm. He was a senior manager, which probably meant he was one step away from being a vice president.
“I don’t know
