Little Stories I have to share 

 

When Aunt Kathy offered me a job at her bakery, my first instinct was to politely decline. I didn’t know anything about baking. But I needed a job to support myself while in college, and it seemed to be as good a job as any. It took me a few shifts and a few burnt batches to learn how to make her signature cup cakes. I mastered her chocolate chip cookies. But could never get the proper macaron rise after countless tries. 

 

The first time he came into the shop, I hardly recognized him. The captain of the football team at my University. The big man on campus, in a corduroy jacket standing in a shop called “Sweet Peony Cupcakes.” I immediately felt self conscious with my hair up in a pony and my black apron on, but I doubted he would even know who I was. 

 

“Hey,” he said to me, running a hand through his mossy brown hair. “What do you recommend? It’s a treat kind of Tuesday.” 

 

I giggled at his comment. “Our cup cakes of course!” I told him, nervous but trying to keep my professional composure. “We can even customize designs.” 

 

“I’d love a custom cupcake with school colours! Any flavour will work.”

“Sounds good!” I typed his order into the till and told him, “That will be three dollars. Debit?” 

 

He nodded and pulled a card out of his wallet. I turned the iPad towards him. The till lit up and I failed to control my gasp. He tipped twenty dollars on a three dollar cupcake. Surely, it must have been a mistake. I wanted to make sure before he finalized the transaction. 

 

“Was that a mistake? I can reset the machine.” 

 

“Nope.” He gave me the cheekiest smile I’ve ever seen. “Not a mistake.”

 

“Then I’ll have to make you the best cupcake you’ve ever had.” 

 

I turned on my heels and walked to the tray of un-iced cupcakes. I debated on red velvet, but stayed safe with vanilla. It all started so innocently. I grabbed the piping tool and made a little black heart on the cupcake. I blushed, knowing the secret message meant I liked him. But I didn’t want him to know that yet. Or ever. So I covered up the heart with our school colours blue and yellow and handed him the cupcake. 

 

“Thanks a million,” he said. He took a great big bite and walked out of the shop. I let out a big sigh as I watched him retreat. Damn he was fine. 

 

He came in the next day, around noon again. And tipped twenty dollars again. He asked me to do my favourite colour, which was pink. I went to the fridge and pulled out another vanilla cupcake. I grabbed the black piping bag. I looked behind me and blushed at the sight of him. I admitted to myself that I might have a little crush on him. He was just so charming and kind. I was thinking that maybe if I write how I feel on the cupcake and he eats it, he will feel the same way. I was way too afraid to ever tell him in person that I have a crush on him. 

 

So instead I wrote in little black letters, “I like you.” I immediately felt embarrassed and grabbed the pink frosting to cover up my little confession. I handed him the cupcake, and like yesterday he thanked me, took a huge bite, and walked out the door leaving me wanting more.

 

On the third day, around noon I found myself constantly checking the clock. An hour went by and he wasn’t there. I wondered if he was busy. Probably with football practice. But I desperately wanted him to come see me. 

 

Finally he walked through the door and my heart pounded out of my chest. I wondered what kind of cupcake he would want. And what message I should secretly write to him. 

 

“Hi,” I said sweetly, a little too nervous to meet his eye. 

 

“Hey Maggie,” he replied.

 

My cheeks flamed like roses. “How do you know my name?” 

 

“I have my ways.” His arm was behind his back like he was hiding something. He slowly moved his hand forward and revealed a cupcake. I look closely and see a little black message “I like you too.” I gasped in shock at his confession. How the heck did he know? I was stunned silent but my heart was pounding so hard against my chest I thought it may fall out.

 

“How did you-?” I finally asked him. 

 

He cut me off. “When you made the cupcakes I would look over your shoulder and watch you. So I took my hand at baking. Took me three batches of cupcake mix and tubs of frosting for me to make this for you.”

 

I took the cupcake out of his palms and took a huge bite, grinning at him. And that’s how I met my husband Jack. I tell the story to the huge crowd of our family and friends, gathered to celebrate our wedding. And our wedding cake is a tower of vanilla cupcakes with love messages on them.