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Brooke
The first snowfall of the season was upon us. Willow Valley had been transformed into a Christmas winter wonderland. The downtown was filled with twinkling lights, red ribbons, and garland and I felt a sense of peace as I looked out the front window of The Crispy Biscuit and watched as more snowflakes danced down to the ground. Christmas was my favorite time of the year. Not only because of how gorgeous Willow Valley became but because I couldn’t wait to unleash all the sweet treats I’d decided to add to my bakery counter this year.
“Cinnamon rolls are out of the oven,” Melinda called from the kitchen.
“Perfect. As soon as they cool enough to add the new icing drizzle, bring some out here and let’s give these ones a try,” I said as I looked over the window display I’d just finished. Another perfect setup, I thought to myself as I looked at the twinkling Christmas lights that hung in the window.
This diner was my home away from home. I’d taken over a few years ago, when my parents had been forced to retire. Two years ago, I took over the space of a retired business next door, blew out the wall, and expanded the space. Not only had the expansion created more room, but it had allowed me to put in a separate baking area and large wall ovens specially dedicated for my bakery counter. Not having to share a kitchen with the chef for the diner had allowed me to be able to start baking earlier and at the same time as he was busy cooking breakfast for the diner.
The bakery counter had boomed in the past few years. I’d added more counter space and had gotten a contract from an online retailer, Baking Crate, which allowed me to receive orders and ship my baked goods nationwide.
“Oh and we got another order on Baking Crate dot com, by the way. It just came in—one dozen chocolate donuts.”
“Awesome. Please set it aside with the others. I’ll get to them tomorrow,” I said, pouring two cups of coffee and sliding into the small booth in the back of the now-empty diner.
I’d been working tirelessly on the cinnamon bun recipe for a month now. Every year I baked one brand new item to offer for the holidays. I’d sat down, began creating, and started baking. With each new batch, I tweaked something different, and tonight, after the tenth try, I was sure I’d nailed it. I’d decided to add in a pinch of cinnamon to the icing. I was hoping this was the last change I’d need since, normally, I’d have them in the display case by now.
“Here you go.” Melinda carried out two plates, each loaded with a cinnamon roll. “They are still a tad warm, but I think they should be fine that way,” she said, placing one of the plates down in front of me and sliding into the booth.
“I sure hope so. It’s never taken me this long to create a recipe. It didn’t take me this long with the Grinch-A-Mas Cookie, or with the Cocoa Cuddles. I was beginning to feel rather defeated.”
“That’s because these are going to be a masterpiece.” Melinda giggled as she raised her coffee mug. “Not that the others weren’t.”
“I don’t know about that. I mean, I know I won second prize with the Grinch Crinkle Cookies and third with the Joy Givers. I just don’t know if these have what it takes to be a bestseller.”
“Are you going to enter anything this year?”
“Oh I’ve thought about it, but with the diner, keeping up with the bakery counter, and all the orders on Baking Crate, I don’t know if I have time. I’m probably going to have to hire another person or perhaps two to help us out. I can’t rely on you seven days a week. You need downtime just like I do.”
Melinda nodded her head. “You do need downtime.” She winked.
I smiled. I’d known we needed help. We needed it back in the summer, and I’d just kind of looked the other way. Melinda had been my right-hand girl for a couple of years, working side-by-side with me, putting in nearly as many hours as I was. She should have been given partial ownership, but she never once complained.
“It’s not a problem, honestly. I have no one here at all. My father is a Marine and is on another tour. I have no clue where my mother is, and I’m not seeing anyone. Being here with you and the rest of the team fills the void I feel and keeps me out of trouble, especially at Christmas.” She smiled.
“Well, I’m glad you’re happy. On that note, let’s take a bite of these, shall we. See what, if anything, needs to be done to them to make them better.”
I sunk my teeth into the soft roll. It had the perfect mix of cinnamon. They were soft, not firm, and they were…perfect.
“My God, Brooke, they taste like heaven!” Melinda exclaimed.
This was it. This was the recipe I’d nearly killed myself over, lost sleep over, and meals, and probably gained close to ten pounds trying. The sweet dessert melted in my mouth. It was the best cinnamon roll I’d ever tasted!
“It must have been the extra dash of cinnamon you added to the icing!” Melinda exclaimed. “These are so good.” She shoved another piece into her mouth.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “I couldn’t agree with you more,” I said, taking another bite. I put the bun down and reached for my copy ofFestive Treasures, my favorite baking magazine. It was their holiday edition, which I loved the most.
“Are they running that contest this year?” Melinda asked as she licked her fingers clean, then grabbed a napkin from the dispenser on the table.
I flipped the magazine open and turned a few pages, “Yep, here it is,” I said, reading through the article.
“There’s a little more coffee. Did you want a top up?” Melinda asked as I continued reading.
“Yes please.”
Melinda slid from the booth, grabbing both mugs, and headed to the coffee pot. I stopped about halfway through and stared down at the magazine. It couldn’t be. I blinked hard, wiped at my eyes, and continued reading to make sure I wasn’t going crazy. I was concentrating so hard I hadn’t noticed Melinda had returned.
“What is it?” she quietly asked.
