When I go downstairs for my shift, I find Juliet standing near the checkout counter, books open in front of her, muttering to herself. It’s been a week since our misunderstanding with the moth decorations, and things have been kind of awkward and tense between us.
“Hey,” I say as I approach. “Everything okay?”
She shakes her head. “Fine, I guess. But tomorrow night is book club, and I wanted to adapt my grandma’s cookie recipe to appeal to both human and monster palates. Turns out, I don’t really know what I’m doing. Neither test batch turned out great. Hence the cookbooks.” She gestures at the two baking tomes laid out before her.
“I see. Are you using regular human ingredients?”
“Yeah, of course. What else would I use?”
“Specialty ingredients that appeal to monster palates.” I grin at her. “I happen to have some in my kitchen. If you’re free tonight, why don’t you come over and I’ll help you bake the cookies.”
For the first time in a week, her whole face lights up in delight. “Really?”
“Yeah, you can come up with me right after we close. Unless you need to go home for the recipe?”
She pulls her phone out of her pocket. “Nope. Got it with me.”
The day sails by, and before I know it, we’re closing the store and going up to my apartment. I let us in and bypass the harsh overhead lights, instead turning on my various table lamps. I preheat the oven, tie on an apron, and open the pantry.
Flicker follows and hops onto the kitchen counter, apparently prepared to help.
“Do you want anything to drink?” I ask. “I have water, tea, and my personal favorite, juice.”
She cocks her head and looks at me, curious. “Your favorite is juice?”
“Yeah, especially blends. I order them from the juice bar. This week is a mix of pineapple, guava, and honeydew juices.”
“Okay. I’d love to try it.”
I pour us each a glass and find another apron in the pantry for her. “Okay, what are the ingredients for the cookies?”
She pulls the recipe up on her phone and shows it to me. It’s labeled ‘Grandma’s Chocolate Chocolate Chunk Cookies.’
“The usual stuff, of course. Flour, baking powder, sugar, brown sugar, cocoa powder, salt, vanilla, eggs, butter, chocolate chunks.”
“Okay, I think with a couple substitutions and some additions, they should be great. Instead of chocolate chunks and vanilla, we need these.” I disappear into the pantry and rummage around, emerging with specialty ingredients.
“Okay, we have shadowmelt chips, which activate only in candlelight, and banshee’s wail vanilla, which screams when the bottle is opened, but is much richer and more potent than anything you can find from Madagascar. Instead of brown sugar, we can sub in phoenix crystals, which are sort of…charred?...likethey’ve been toasted extra dark. Oh, and some dragon’s flame cinnamon, which is incredibly potent and smokes when it hits warmed butter.”
Juliet is staring in wonder, probably mentally filing all the information away in that busy brain. “I’ve never heard of any of these.”
“I’m not surprised. Harmony Glen is your first monster town, right?”
“Yeah. In fact, you were the first monster I met, followed closely by Gabe.”
A little bolt of pride puffs in my chest. I must have made a good impression for the monster community, given that she stuck around and is trying to make cookies that monsters will like.
“Well, this stuff is usually sold in specialty markets or online, although some of this is available at the grocery store here in town.” I go to the antique cabinet in my living room and dig out a candle for the shadowmelt chips.
She leans close, wanting to watch the activation process, which will be disappointing. You can’t see anything happen, but somehow the candlelight makes the chips extra gooey and melty. As she peers at the little plate of chips, completely absorbed in what’s about to happen, I can’t help myself—lighting quick, I flick one at her, and it catches in her hair.
She squeal-giggles and immediately retaliates, sending a puff of flour in my face.
It sticks to my various furry parts…and wafts up my nose.
“ACHOO!”
The sneeze is horrifically loud, though I do manage to do it in the crook of my elbow and not all over the ingredients. It’s immediately followed by three smaller sneezes as my nose tries to remove the flour.
