When Sugar knocked at the door of the house she didn't expect Mark aka Mr faints-a-lot to be the one to open the door, nor did she expect him to stare at her like she just killed his cat. Or dog. Or crashed his Benz.
Or whatever else rich people loved.
"I'm Sugar" she said as calmly as possible
Sugar stared at him confused.
"Your name is Sugar?"
"Your real name?" Mr faints-a-lot a lot asked
Sugar nodded. Her name had always been something people were intrigued by.
What were your parents thinking?
Like she would know. She'd love to ask her mother those same questions. If she could find her, wherever the heck she was. But that wasn't her problem right now.
Mr faints-a-lot a lot was acting like the policeman in charge of barbaric nomenclature.
"It's my real name" Sugar
"Your parents named you Sugar?"
"It's not a nick name" he asked again
"No" Sugar replied..
"Why though?" Mr faints-a-lot asked again
Sugar resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She might get a catering job out of this. She didn't want to ruin it for herself.
"I don't know" she replied
He held the door open for her, "Come in. Sheila is waiting for you" he said
Sugar's brows furrowed, who was Sheila? Why was she meeting a Sheila? What of his mom? Wasn't she here to meet his mother?
The lady that was seated in the loving room stood up to greet her.
"Hi sugar, welcome. " she said gesturing for her to sit, "I'm Sheila "
Sugar nodded. Sheila sounded like the lady she'd spoken to on the phone.
But why did Mr faints-a-lot call her Sheila? Wasn't she supposed to be his mother?
Was this one of those progressive households that they children called their parents by their names?
"I brought you something" sugar said handing the package in her hand to Sheila.
Sheila peeked in the bag and smiled.
"chocolate chip cookies. I made them" sugar continued.
"Mark loves anything with chocolate in it. He'd love this" Sheila said.
"I actually called you over to give you this" Sheila said as a girl Sugar didn't even realize was standing there, handed Sheila an envelope.
Sheila passed the envelope to Sugar.
She peeked inside. Of course money.
"You don't have to pay me for helping your son. I did what any decent human being would have done." Sugar said
Shut up! Her brain chided, you need that money
"I'm giving you because you did it. Not anyone else." sheila said raising a cookie to her lips. She bit into it and sugar watched as her expression changed from that of surprise to that of happiness.
Sugar loved days like this, where she could show people what she was actually good at. She felt whole on days like this and never less than.
"This is really good" Sheila hummed
"Thank you" Sugar replied.
"I should pay you for these. I don't think you should be giving out these for free. "
"Take these as the free sample then. You can pay for your next batch" Sugar said.
Sheila nodded, "I will" she said and Sugar's eyes widened. She didn't think that Sheila loved the cookie that much. "How much will it cost?"
"A pack of 12 is 600. By normal standards what's in that bag would cost you 4800"
"That many for free? I really hope you do not cheat yourself by giving out free samples like these often."
"To be honest with you, I tried out a new recipe today. I made about 200 hundred of them and they came out really well. I was excited so I brought some here. I'll sell the rest." Sugar explained
"So do I order through chefcooks?" Sheila asked
"No. Chefcooks do not do desserts. I do. It's like my side hustle" Sugar said
"I admire that" Sheila said just as her son walked back into the room. His phone was in his hand and henwas still wearing gray sweats, but his time he had a white T-shirt on.
"This one works part time for Media Faculty. So half of the days of the week he's lazying about at home."
Mark rolled his eyes muttering something under his breath as he dipped his hand into the already opened packet on the table.
He sat on one of the armchairs as he ate and Sugar just watched him.
What is media faculty? Sugar wanted to ask. But she held her breath instead.
"How old are you?" Sheila asked.
"23" Sugar replied
"Ah... Mark is 24" Sheila said
"Where did you buy these?" Mark asked cutting Sheila off
"Sugar made them." was her reply
"Hmm" he hummed off handedly walking back to the table and picking up four more packets. Only three packs were probably left in the bag right now.
Sheila shook her head uncrossing her legs, "Mark"
"We talked about this"
"I have no idea what you're talking about" he replied with the best fake confused face Sugar had ever seen.
He stuffed his pockets with the packets as his mother glared at him.
Sugar chuckled at his behavior.
Now she had something to fantasize about.
She stood up. Her plan was to carry the remaining three packs to the kitchen counter top. She didn't notice Mark standing up. Nor did she notice him running towards her. Whether or not he feared that she was taking the rest of the packets back with her, Sugar did not know. She tried to shift out of the way to avoid the collision she knew was going to happen. But her leg did not move.
Sugar knew things like this always happened, but in movies and sappy romance novels.
She had never not been able to will her legs to move, even the fake one.
Mark collided with her. But mostly with her bad leg. Which meant that she didn't feel much of the pain of falling. But it also meant that Mark felt a lot because her leg was made of plastic and metal alloys.
Sugar was glad for the first rug that covered the area of the parlour where she fell. But Mark was bruising. How he'd managed to knock himself on her fake leg was beyond her.
She was worried about his bruise, but she saw Mark's eyes widen in horror, and his gaze was direct at something else.
"Jesus Christ!" Another voice in the room exclaimed.
Sugar followed Mark's gaze and resisted the urge to laugh when she saw it. Her fake leg had broken quite alright, but it was twisted in a 90 degree angle outwards and the foot of the fake leg was now bent in a way that would give anybody chills.
Anyone who didn't know that that leg was fake.
Mark got up and so did Sheila and the third person in the room. Who's name Sugar didn't know.
"Help me up, Mr faints-a-lot" she mumbled as he stared at her weird, "It's just my prosthetic"
YOU ARE READING
Just a Little SugarGeneral Fiction
Updates every Sunday 😉 Sugar has always been bullied. Her name didn't help matters at all. Why her mother called her Sugar she had no idea. Maybe it was her inclination to the sweets. Her love for confectionery and baking. Sugar had problems. Her...