A. G. Mayes - A Slice of Magic

I nodded, giving them a weak smile as I thought about my packed bag upstairs.

Day 3 ― Friday, November 4th

Dear Elodie,

I just started a new job, and it’s not going well. I’m over-motivated and under qualified. I feel like everyone is watching, waiting for me to make a mistake. Unfortunately, I give people a lot to talk about with all the mistakes that I make. Should I just go back to my old job? Or should I stick it out and hope that I get better?

Sincerely,

A Success at Failure

Dear A Success at Failure,

‘Fake it till you make it’ is a phrase for a reason. You can succeed at your new job. It just might take a little time, and even though you may not realize it, there are people around you who want to see you succeed and will be happy to help you. Put a smile on your face and move forward with confidence. I have no doubt you’ll be successful at anything you put your mind to.

Ask and I’ll Answer,

Elodie

I could still see the flames dancing behind my eyelids every time I blinked. Day two of baking my own pies was not going better than day one.

‘The fire extinguisher is right here. Try to remember that next time.’ A man with cropped blond hair pointed to the red canister on the wall while two other firefighters opened the windows to air the place out. I certainly hoped there wouldn’t be a next time.

‘Yeah, I see it now. Thanks.’ I couldn’t keep the edge out of my voice, and my hand shook as I brushed the hair out of my face. I vaguely remembered seeing it there, but I had never been one to react well in a panic situation.

When I’d first started working at Hal’s Handyman, I drilled a hole in a water line when I was hanging some pictures in a bathroom. Water was spraying out of the wall, and I ran around in circles yelling and slipping in puddles until my friend and coworker Josh walked in and calmly turned off the water at the shutoff valve. Josh was one of those people who never got riled up about anything.

‘I heard this little guy whimpering at the top of the stairs.’ The redheaded firefighter came over carrying Mitzy. She handed me the wide-eyed dog.

It had happened so fast. Smoke poured out of the oven. The smoke detectors screeched loudly. When I opened the oven door, the bottom was on fire. I ran to the sink and filled my hands with water and splashed it inside, which of course did nothing. So, I’d grabbed a towel, got it wet, and threw it on the flames. It wasn’t wet enough because it ignited immediately. Finally, I got a bowl of water and managed to douse the flames, but not before getting a visit from the friendly neighborhood fire department.

‘Could you turn the flashing lights off?’ I asked. A crowd had begun to gather in the street.

‘Yes, but everyone in town will still know we were here within the hour,’ the guy said.

‘Don’t worry. They’ll have something else to talk about tomorrow.’ The last firefighter came over carrying a clipboard. He took his helmet off and tucked it under his arm. His gray hair was slicked back, and his piercing blue eyes gave me a good-natured wink.

I’d found Aunt Erma’s sales records in one of the files in the bottom drawer of her desk. My first day in town, when everyone came to gawk, I had sold more than she did on an average day. Yesterday, I had only done about a quarter of the business she usually did. I was hoping I could do better today. I was not off to a good start.

After the firefighters left, I set Mitzy on one of the red chairs out front and surveyed the kitchen. I coughed a little. The smoke was thinning now that they had all the doors and windows opened.

I could still hear the excited chatter of the lookie-loos outside. Why didn’t they just go home?

I finished putting together and baking the other pies. I stared through the window of the oven, panicked that some juice might spill over and start an oven fire. I couldn’t have the fire department out twice in one day.

The Morning Pie Crew were my first customers of the day. Mr Barnes and Lena teasingly sang a few rounds of ‘Ring of Fire.’ Flora, with her brow wrinkled, kept asking if I was OK. Finally, they changed the subject.

‘The Fall Festival is next week!’ Flora said, clapping her hands.

‘I know! I can’t wait!’ Lena squealed. ‘I heard that they are going to have dueling pianos as the entertainment this year. There’s something about two people playing the piano that really gets me going. I’ll be ready to shake my money maker!’ She wiggled a little in her seat, giving us a preview of things to come.

‘What’s the Fall Festival?’ I asked.

‘It’s our town’s celebration of fall,’ Mr Barnes offered helpfully. ‘Really, just an excuse to eat mini donuts and drink Lena’s special lemonade.’ He gave her a wink.

‘My lemonade will put hair on your chest,’ Lena added.

‘Erma’s Pies has a booth there,’ Flora told me. ‘You should probably start preparing in case Erma’s not back in time.’

My eyes widened. How could I prepare for this when I could barely keep the pie shop running?

‘Erma made eighty pies last year,’ Lena chimed in. ‘And she sold out before noon!’

I tried to speak, but I think I just let out a little squeak. Eighty pies? At the rate I was baking, I would have to start now to be ready … for next year’s festival.

‘Remember six years ago when the clown snuck up on Gerald?’ Lena hooted. ‘Gerald is the town wrestler,’ she explained to me, as though ‘town wrestler’ was an actual title that should make sense to me.

‘Oh yes,’ Mr Barnes said with a chuckle. ‘Gerald is a big guy, as you can imagine, and he ran screaming from the town square. We had to send out a search party! We finally found him in the lilac bushes behind the old church.’

‘You guys shouldn’t be laughing at him,’ Flora tsked. ‘Fear of clowns is a legitimate thing.’

‘Even Gerald laughs at it now,’ Lena said. ‘Though we haven’t had a clown at the festival since.’

I stopped listening as I began to wonder how I could make enough pies for the festival. On the plus side, my baking wasn’t as good as Aunt Erma’s yet, so maybe I wouldn’t sell as much. Perhaps I could get by with baking forty, or maybe even thirty pies. But the thought of baking even thirty pies all at once made my head spin. When I finally tuned back into the conversation, they had moved off the topic of clowns and phobias.

Just before closing time, a customer came in. She was much shorter than I was and very muscular. She wore a bright yellow workout shirt with the name Gina’s Gym embroidered in the corner. I greeted her with a smile.

‘What can I get for you?’ I asked. ‘The blueberry crumble has been mighty popular today.’ I tried my best sales pitch even though most customers today had only come in to order coffee so they could ask me about the fire.

At that, she wrinkled her nose. How dare she? Who wrinkled their nose at blueberry crumble pie? I could already tell that she and I would not be friends.

‘I’m not here for pie,’ she said. Clearly, she wandered through the wrong door. ‘I’m here to discuss the possibility of you serving healthier options at your establishment.’

‘What?’

‘The town is participating in a statewide weight loss challenge,’ she told me. ‘It’s going to be great publicity for my gym, but so many people have been coming into your shop every day and overindulging on empty calories that we’re having trouble making much headway.’

I stared blankly at her, which she took as a sign that she should continue talking.

‘I’m certainly not suggesting that you close your doors completely,’ she said, though the look on her face made me think she would like to suggest that. ‘I’d just like to recommend you try some of these recipes for healthier alternatives.’ She pushed a booklet across the counter towards me. I read the title: Fat Free Pies and Desserts . She had to be kidding. I wanted to throw her out, but despite my height advantage, I was pretty sure she could take me. So, I tried a different approach instead.