One More Chance

Chapter 8

Extra Long Chapter!!! 4 PAGES!!!

Chapter 8

I watched her nervously, as she took a spoonful of cake and put it gently in her mouth. I realized this is how those people felt when they watched the judges try their food on Master Chef. Rita’s reaction when she first saw the cake was pure delight coated with sugar. After her long day out, al she wanted was to go into bed, but she knew she had to bake her cakes to keep up with the demand for the next day. Of course, when she came home she saw that I had already made a cake.

“Vanessa,” whispered Rita. “This is great! You should bake for the cafe!”

“Really?”  I asked, cautiously. What if she was lying just to make me feel better? Then it would mean my cakes would turn down customers, something that I could not do to Rita or her business. “It’s all right if you don’t like it. I won’t get offended,”

“Are you kidding me, duckie?” squealed Rita! “This will attract more customers! This could be my break for the cafe! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you could bake!”

“I couldn’t,” I admitted. “That was my first time,”

“What?” she asked. “Really? With no instructions? Even I couldn’t do that as my first time? You’ve got talent duckie!”

With that conversation, my new life started. I became better at baking cakes and cookies as autumn turned into winter. The cold dark nights disappeared into lighter afternoons with pinkish orange skies. My hands became quicker and more skilful as I learned how to knead cookie dough the most delicious way.

More than my cakes, my chocolate chip cookies were the most popular. The word passed throughout the village, and those who loved chocolate came first, spreading through ears, turning from rumours into truth. Soon, people were making orders for parties, and even business.

“Duckie!” called Rita as she entered the cafe. “Jane from down the road wants some of your cookies for her stall,”

I started making my cookies for all these stalls around the village. Even Jared wanted some for his shop. Of course I gave all the profits to Rita, because that was the best I could do to pay her back for the home and the love. Yes, love. Rita treated me like her very own daughter. Even a slight cut would have put her into tears. And soon, I started thinking of her as my mother as well. At first this realization punched me in the heart. Only one woman came to me as a mother, but I lost her in a harsh cold way. But soon, I began softening up to her. I began seeing no harm in becoming her daughter.

Haze, however did not soft up to me. He stayed the same harsh man towards me, but I saw a completely different side to him when he was with others. He made a point in avoiding me as much as possible, and it became annoying. I managed to ignore the feeling of rejection in the pit of my stomach. His coldness never surprised me. But when he changed his personality towards me one day, it was an understatement to say that it was surprising.

“If you knead it with your elbows, it’ll help,” said a voice from behind me. I had been kneading cookie dough for a while, but this new mixture with rougher flour refused to soften up.

“How?” I asked him. He walked up to the sink and washed his hands, then rolled up his sleeves. I averted my eyes from his muscled arms.

He stood by me, and I took a step sideways to avoid us touching. With his elbows down on the table, he flexed his arms, kneading the dough. I watched him with slight lust, and for some reason, I had a strange desire for his muscled arms, which were due to all that farm work, to be around me.

“All right?” he asked, looking at me.

I smiled. “Thanks,”

I heard him mutter something with sounded like no problem. I tried to knead the dough like how he showed me, but I couldn’t get the hand and elbow movement in at the same time.