The Secret Ingredient
By SincerelyEllie
Introduction
The morning dew hung in the air as the sun had barely risen but the city was already wide awake. It was busy and bustling full of people, starting their day without a single moment of silence. Some rushed to the sidewalks, waving their arms frantically while shouting in hopes to catch the attention of a yellow taxi that contrasted the dull, gray city. Others hurried through the crosswalk to reach their destination. The sound of footsteps was muted as they stepped into holes filled with murky mud and water from the rain that rinsed the city overnight.
Beatrice looked around and saw crowds of people bumping into each other, but it didn’t faze her. She just kept moving, trying to keep up with her roommate.
“Micah, wait up.”
Her roommate turned around, “Come on Bee, why don’t you float a little faster? I don’t know why you try so hard to avoid bumping into people, it’s not like we can. Just float normally and you’ll just walk right through them.”
Beatrice caught up to her and they began towards Love You a Latte, their favorite coffee shop. “I can’t help it. I just—”
She was cut off at the sight of their other friend, Wyatt, who was struggling against the crowd, bumping into everyone. She could see his wavy dark hair bobbing in the distance trying his best to get through the crowd. Beatrice could feel the spike of excitement flow through her from her friend. They walked towards each other and reached the front of the coffee shop. They were brimming with excitement, mainly Micah since Beatrice only felt it most from her friend, while Wyatt was bent over trying to catch his breath.
“Why do you look like you just walked up a flight of stairs?” Micah couldn’t help but tease him.
“Well for your information, not all of us are blessed with the ability,” he paused to catch his breath before continuing, “to just faze through anything and everything.”
Beatrice petted Wyatt’s head, “I wouldn’t exactly call it a blessing.”
“It is when you live in New York City,” he responded.
Beatrice just shrugged and started walking towards the door as her two friends trailed behind her. “You have to look on the bright side,” Micah winked, brushing past her friends to pass through the door. Beatrice rolled her eyes and followed her passing through the door too. But Wyatt didn’t pay much attention and ran straight into the door. The sound of his head hitting the wood was heard but muted from inside the noisy and always busy shop.
The two girls turned around and watched as Wyatt entered, rubbing his forehead where a red spot was forming. Micah was thrown into a fit of giggles before Beatrice joined her after a few seconds passed, her emotions reflecting her roommate.
“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. Thanks for asking,” Wyatt remarked, “I’ll just go buy our drinks and you two can grab a table.”
“Alright, well I’m going to head to the restroom real quick.”
Beatrice watched her two friends head in opposite directions before she looked for an empty table. The coffee shop was packed with people of all skin colors—brown, tanned, olive, white—but some were paler than others, almost translucent just like her and Micah.
She finally spotted an empty table in the corner and hurriedly glided over to claim it. She glanced over at the counter to see Wyatt waiting in the long line. He must have felt her stare before he turned his head somehow spotting her right away. He gave her a quick smile then she suddenly saw his eyebrows furrow and his smile dropped into a slight frown. To anyone else, they would think he was worried about her or asking if she was okay. But to Beatrice, she just thought it was just a facial expression. It's just Wyatt's face. For her, there was no way of deciphering what it meant so she simply smiled back or at least tried to but it probably looked like a grimace.
Luckily, the line moved and Wyatt was forced to turn away from their little staredown to place their order.
Finally having a moment to herself, she looked around the cafe. There was a mixture of both the living and the dead inside just merely existing together. She knew that once someone passes away, they're given a choice to either move on to the afterlife or continue living as a spirit. It was just how the world always was. Spirits looked just like the living. Their appearances were the same at the time of their passing, however, they were just paler, almost transparent. But there really wasn't much difference between the living and the dead other than the obvious of course.
Beatrice tried to ignore the constant waves of different emotions attempting to invade her senses. Luckily, she had sort of learned coping mechanisms to handle so many emotions all at once. She focused on her breathing and thought of baking which always leveled her mind and allowed her to make sense of the various emotions flowing through her.
She felt a hand on her arm. “Hey, you okay?” Micah’s voice broke her out of her daze. Beatrice didn’t realize how long she was lost in her thoughts until Micah slid into the seat next to her.
“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” she looked up at her friend with narrowed eyes, “I’m serious. I can feel you worrying.”
Micah lifted her hands up in surrender, “Fine, fine.”
“Alright ladies, I have one Iced Americano for me, a Caffé Mocha with extra chocolate syrup for Micah, and lastly a Honey Green Tea for Bee.” Wyatt handed out each drink before taking his seat across from them.
“Who even goes to a coffee shop and orders tea?” Micah scrunched up her nose as if the thought of drinking tea at a coffee shop was such a heinous crime.
“Me,” Beatrice deadpanned.
Wyatt chuckled, “It’s completely normal otherwise they wouldn’t serve tea at all.”
The other rolled her eyes, “Whatever.”
The trio lapsed into small talk as they sipped their drinks.
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“Shit,” Beatrice lost track of time before looking at her watch, “I have to get to the bakery.” She stood up to put on her jacket.
“Why do you have to get there so early?” Wyatt asked.
“Yeah, it’s not like many people want sweets this early in the morning?” Micah added.
“Well as true as that may be, I still have to prepare everything, especially the honeysuckle. And you know how busy it gets during lunch.”
Her two friends nodded their heads before Micah spoke up again, “Why don’t you hire someone to work with you? You’ve been mentioning how busy it gets sometimes and it’s obvious you’re overworked.”
“You know I can’t. Baking helps me control all the emotions I feel but I also become vulnerable. I don’t want to risk the possibility that I mix up their emotions with the customers. And if I end up affecting their emotions in the wrong way, who knows what might happen.”
“Alright, alright. Say no more. Just think about it. We don’t want you to work yourself to death,” she paused, “oh wait…you already are.”
“Ha Ha, very funny.”
She left her two friends to high-five each other over the joke and walked outside. A shadow hung in the air, almost swallowing the city save for a few small beams of sunlight peeking through the dark clouds. The shadow did little to dampen the bright reds and yellows from the lights of cars trailing behind one another in sequence.
The radiant beams shone from cars were dull compared to A Taste of Serendipity, a quaint little bakery on the corner of Sixth Avenue at 55th Street, next to the giant 'LOVE' art sculpture. From the bright red 'LOVE' to the ivory exterior walls of the bakery, it was easy to spot the shop. A Taste of Serendipity stood out amidst the various grayscale buildings towering over the tiny bakery like a beacon of light in dull and never-ending darkness.
Beatrice stood waiting at the crosswalk. She paused and reveled in the moment, feeling the dewy air on her pale skin. She instinctively wrapped her wool jacket tighter as a chilling breeze blew through her. She took a deep breath and smelled the scent of rain lingering over the city. The earthy scent attacked her nose and the breeze felt colder as the light finally switched to green, allowing her and many others to cross the street.
Everyone was in a rush. She picked up her pace and glided across the crosswalk to the front of the bakery. The entire exterior of the bakery was painted white with a pale-yellow awning above the doorway reading: A Taste of Serendipity. Arrangements of flowers ran along the door and around the sides of the bakery. Beautiful arrangements of Callas, Carnations, Chrysanthemums, and Anastasias all various shades of whites and pinks adorned the bakery for a calm, yet lively aura.
She glided through the door and escaped the cold air. The scent of the rain faded from her nose as she took in the smell of the bakery. The sweet aroma from the cakes, cupcakes, cookies, and other desserts lingered in the air from the previous day.
Her eyes swept over her little shop. The walls alternated in a pastel yellow and a baby blue. The whole bakery was coordinated in pastel, light colors and decorated with cream-colored tables and light yellow chairs. The walls on the left side were lined with sections of light blue restaurant-style booth chairs for each table setting. The wall exactly opposite the door had a white grid panel hanging from the ceiling with potted plants and succulents hung from the gridded shelf. Against the right-hand wall stood a white front desk with a glass case used to display the delicious baked goods. The bakery inside was clean and empty, even the glass case was empty of any desserts.
Beatrice’s imagination ran wild as she thought of all the different recipes she’d conjured to life with her hands. The different flavor combinations she was dying to mix together for the perfect balance of sweetness: a white cream sandwiched between two muted orange pastries resembling a macaroon, tasting like passion fruit with vanilla cream in the middle, topped with an edible orange rose; a couple of petit fours of different flavors such as red velvet, coconut, strawberry, lemon berry, with an outer layer of buttercream frosting decorated with a light coating of rainbow sprinkles; a layered cake with a soft, golden biscuit on the bottom, whipped cream next, a thin layer of sliced strawberries, another biscuit, then a final layer of fluffy whipped cream swirl, and more strawberries to top it all off making a round strawberry shortcake tower. Just the thought of all the decadent desserts that would be showcased made her fingers twitch.
The interior of the bakery gave a serene atmosphere for customers to enjoy. Their moods were not only affected by the baked goods but also by the aura of the quaint little shop. Beatrice unlocked the front door before walking to the kitchen in the back room and set to work. As the city woke up, she attempted to keep up with the bustling life, but it was nearly impossible for a spirit like her. The city was alive, but Beatrice couldn’t help thinking to herself, “At least one of us is.” She sighed and began baking.
*author's note, the inspiration for the bakery design is based on this bakery!
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