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Kitty
A Mouthful of Sweets is my favorite place in the world. Everything about this candy shop is playful and idyllic, not to mention tasty and uplifting. The magic begins before you even step through the front door. The cobblestone walkway leading up to the entrance is lined with four-foot-tall candy cane statuettes. The base of each candy cane is adorned with large yellow, orange, and green gum drops, so realistic you can see each granule of crystalline sugar dusted on the tops. From the walkway, you can also catch a glimpse of the store’s vibrant interior. There are pink and blue walls, and a fun, color-splattered floor. It appears as if an incredibly talented six-year-old was given free rein of the place and a dozen buckets of paint. It’s a perfect fantasy land, and I’m so lucky that I get to come here every day.
But it’s not just the visuals that bring to mind a real-life Candyland. When the shop’s front door opens, a small bell dings in a melodious tone, intermingling with the lively music playing over the PA system. Then, it really hits you. The decadent, joyous, sugary smell of chocolate rushes out the door like a dense invisible wave. The scents alone get your endorphins hopping giddily, and your mouth begins to water as aisles of candy greet you. There are miniature chocolates, gummies galore, and sour gumballs, all packaged with ribbons and bows. Some are on shelves, some are in buckets waiting to be scooped into brown paper bags, and some are artfully arranged in colorful displays that reach all the way to the ceiling.
Frankly, it’s a childhood wonderland come true. After all, there’s something special about our product, no matter the customer. Even as an adult, I still lose myself sometimes, and I work here. There’s just so much to enjoy: cotton candy, fudge, lollipops, taffy, and chocolate bars, not to mention sour gummies and red-hot cinnamon bears. The highlight of the shop, however, is a special type of licorice which is hard to find in the United States. It comes from Estonia, where the average person eats over four pounds of licorice a year! Who knew? But it makes me smile to know that exotic black licorice is a thing, and boy, is it good.
Luckily for me, I get to work at A Mouthful of Sweets every day. It makes sense because I’m passionate about sweets, and I hope to be able to have my own shop one day. Now that would be a real fantasy come true.
But now, we’re closing for the evening. It’s Sunday, and the sun’s already beginning to set, scattering pink and orange rays all over the colorful displays. My friend (and the store owner) Sansa is still here, and I look over at her huge belly. She’s in her third trimester right now, and looks about ready to pop.
“Sansa,” I start sympathetically, “why don’t you head home? I can close up here.” She cocks her head sideways, surprised. Her swelling stomach is gently pressed up against a glass casing, a box of candy balanced haphazardly on top. She looks as though she can barely keep her eyes open, and those long lashes sweep over her cheeks. She yawns, but then quickly covers it with a smile.
“Are you sure, Kitty? I know I’m a heifer right now, but I can handle it. I’m just stocking shelves after all,” she replies.
I smile kindly.
“Stocking shelves is hard,” I say, shooing her with my hands. “Go home, get off of your feet.” I take the box of licorice from her grasp and gesture with my head towards the front door. “I’m fine closing up tonight by myself. You go on and let your handsome hubby take care of you.” It’s true because Sansa’s married to gorgeous CEO John Carson. It’s kind of a funny story. John needed a fake fiancée in order to convince his family he was ready to become CEO of his family business, so he convinced Sansa to take the role. But somewhere along the way, they fell in love, and now Sansa’s expecting their second child.
My boss’s body wilts with relief upon hearing my words.
“Oh, thank you Kitty. You’re an angel. What did I ever do to deserve a friend like you?” she gratefully says as she unties her apron. She waddles around behind the cash register, taking her purse from the hook and replacing it with her powder blue apron.
“No worries,” I grin. “It’s all good.” My boss casts another grateful grin my way and then lumbers to the exit before waving and leaving.
Then, the door shuts, leaving me alone in the store, and I spin on my heels. I turn down the lights, dust off the countertops, and then look around a bit. The shop is a completely different place when it gets late in the evenings like this, and I appreciate the peace and solitude. After dealing with truckloads of tourists, not to mention hordes of children all day, the quiet is nice.
