On Sleepless Roads, the Sleepless Go
Two
“Sasha! Ten minutes!” I shouted, finishing applying my mascara.
“Okay!” His muffled yell sounded back to me from his room. I gave myself a final once over in my large bathroom mirror and nodded at my appearance. The heels of my ankle boots clicked against the hardwood floors that continued throughout the condo. I collected my purse, phone and keys from my bedroom and set myself in the direction of Sasha’s room where I knew I’d find him playing with his Transformers rather than getting dressed for school. As I approached his door, I heard the familiar noises that belonged to Optimus Prime, but were also echoed by my six year old son. I raised an eyebrow and opened his door. He didn’t notice the door opening and continued to play with his toys. I cleared my throat. His head whipped around and stared at me with wide eyes. He gave me a cheesy smile, the smile that I had seen enough times to know that it was a ‘I know I’m not supposed to be doing something’ smile. I sighed and shook my head.
“That’s quite an outfit you’ve got on,” He stood before me in a bright orange polo shirt, hunter green corduroys, and navy blue Nikes. He nodded, the smile still on his face.
“My favorite shirt, my favorite pants, and my favorite shoes,” He stated proudly. I briskly walked over to his walk-in closet and picked out a new outfit for him. I set a white shirt with a black sweater vest, jeans and his little, black Adidas on his bed.
“Five minutes, Pal. You don’t want to be late,” I leaned down and gave his a kiss on his forehead.
“Ah, man,”
+
“So, I got a call this morning from a big client,” Marin started as I set my bag behind the counter.
“And?” I placed my black apron over my head and tied it around my waist. I looked up at her for a response.
“And it’s big,”
“How big?”
“Two-hundred big,”
“That’s not so bad,”
“They want ten different types of cupcakes,”
“Alright,”
“And an actual cake,”
“Seriously?”
“That’s not all,” I gave her a look that told her to elaborate. “They want you to deliver them,”
“I’m not a delivery girl, I’m the owner,”
“That’s what I told them, but they said that since you have one of the most popular bakeries in Chicago and that you’re always here, they insisted that you deliver them,” I sighed. “They also figured that Chicago’s best bakery should deliver to Chicago’s best team,” I furrowed my eyebrows.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She looked at me like I had six heads.
“You can’t possibly tell me that you don’t know who Chicago’s greatest team is,” I looked around awkwardly. “No way! You don’t know who the Blackhawks are?”
“Hockey team, right?” She nodded. “That’s about as much as I know,” She deflated.
“Then you wouldn’t know who Patrick Kane is either, I suppose?” I shook my head. She sighed heavily. “It’s his birthday, so that’s why they ordered them. It’s supposed to be this huge surprise for him. That’s another reason why they wanted you to deliver them. They figured that you’d want to meet him,” She shrugged.
“I don’t even know who he is,” I shook my head, “So, they assumed that since I live in Chicago that I would know who the Blackhawks were and that I would be honored to meet Peter Lane?”
“Patrick Kane,”
“Whatever,” I rolled my eyes.
“Yeah, that pretty much sums it up,”
“When do they need them by?” She seemed to hesitate. “Mar,”
“…Tomorrow?” She gave me the same smile that Sasha had given me earlier, but this one said ‘I’m in deep shit, aren’t I?’. I took a deep breath and exhaled to prevent myself from smacking her.
“Tomorrow?” She nodded with that smile. “And you said yes?”
“Yeah,” She whispered. If that grin didn’t come off of her face soon, I was sure it would crack in half.
“Since you make these appointments, you would know that I have six pick ups and deliveries tomorrow. Am I right?” She nodded again.
“We’ve never turned anyone down before?” She tried to offer, but it came out as more of a question. I placed my hand on my forehead and bit my lower lip. A few seconds passed before I nodded.
“We better get working, then.”
+
Marin was nice enough to make me a list of the cupcakes that were ordered forPete’s birthday. She also filled me in on an appointment that was made for today. A man named Brent was coming in to give us an idea of how to do the cake since we weren’t given any details. The lack of organization with this order was making me want to blow my brains out.
“So, we have Brownie Fudge, Tiramisu, Rev Velvet, S‘more, Apple Cobbler, Blackbottom Cheesecake, Dulce de Leche, Cookie Dough, Pumpkin, and Half Baked. You want to get the frostings started? ” I asked Marin as I heard the bell to the front door ring. She nodded and quickly got to work. “Hello,” I greeted the tall, dark-haired man that stood by the display case. He surveyed what was in the case and seemed pleased with what he saw. He looked up at me and gave me a friendly smile.
“Hi, I have an appointment for a cake,” I nodded and grabbed my sketchpad from under the counter.
“Brent?” He nodded. I held my hand out to him. “I’m Julie,” I led him over to one of the café tables that we had out front. “So, what are you thinking of doing?” He pulled out a piece of paper that was folded in his pocket.
“We were thinking about doing something like this,” He unfolded the paper. The image of a plain, three-tiered cake stared back at me. I nodded in approval. “We want it white,” I started to sketch the tiers, making little side notes as he continued. “The Blackhawks logo has to be on it since the organization is throwing the party for him. And the obvious ‘Happy Birthday Patrick!’ on it. Ya know, just keep it hockey related and you can do anything you want with it. We trust you with whatever you do,” He offered me a grin. I continued to make notes until he stopped speaking.
“And you guys requested that I deliver everything?” He nodded.
“Yeah, Pat’s a huge fan of your shop and I’m more than positive that he would love to meet the amazing person that made his cake and the guest’s cupcakes.” This caused me to blush.
“And what time would be best for the delivery?”
+
The cake was finished. I had personally made the cake and everything that went on it. I had to call in some of the interns and other workers who had the day off to help with not only the cupcakes, but the other orders that had to be finished by tomorrow.
Three quarters of the cupcakes were now topped and packaged for the delivery and were put in the cooler to keep them fresh. Patrick’s cake had been a challenge for me, considering I didn’t know the first thing about hockey, but I got it done and it looked incredible. One of the interns helped me move it to a cooler to let everything finish setting so it would be easy to transport tomorrow.
Marin looked about ready to shoot herself. She had been baking and topping cupcakes for the past four hours and she still wasn’t done. I grabbed a piping bag and started helping her.
“Goddamn cupcakes. Goddamn Blackhawks. Goddamn icing. Goddamn…damn,” I chuckled at Marin and shook my head.
“You did this to yourself,” She glared at me, clearly not happy with what she was doing, and kept doing what she was appointed to do.
“Goddamned boss,”
“Okay!” His muffled yell sounded back to me from his room. I gave myself a final once over in my large bathroom mirror and nodded at my appearance. The heels of my ankle boots clicked against the hardwood floors that continued throughout the condo. I collected my purse, phone and keys from my bedroom and set myself in the direction of Sasha’s room where I knew I’d find him playing with his Transformers rather than getting dressed for school. As I approached his door, I heard the familiar noises that belonged to Optimus Prime, but were also echoed by my six year old son. I raised an eyebrow and opened his door. He didn’t notice the door opening and continued to play with his toys. I cleared my throat. His head whipped around and stared at me with wide eyes. He gave me a cheesy smile, the smile that I had seen enough times to know that it was a ‘I know I’m not supposed to be doing something’ smile. I sighed and shook my head.
“That’s quite an outfit you’ve got on,” He stood before me in a bright orange polo shirt, hunter green corduroys, and navy blue Nikes. He nodded, the smile still on his face.
“My favorite shirt, my favorite pants, and my favorite shoes,” He stated proudly. I briskly walked over to his walk-in closet and picked out a new outfit for him. I set a white shirt with a black sweater vest, jeans and his little, black Adidas on his bed.
“Five minutes, Pal. You don’t want to be late,” I leaned down and gave his a kiss on his forehead.
“Ah, man,”
+
“So, I got a call this morning from a big client,” Marin started as I set my bag behind the counter.
“And?” I placed my black apron over my head and tied it around my waist. I looked up at her for a response.
“And it’s big,”
“How big?”
“Two-hundred big,”
“That’s not so bad,”
“They want ten different types of cupcakes,”
“Alright,”
“And an actual cake,”
“Seriously?”
“That’s not all,” I gave her a look that told her to elaborate. “They want you to deliver them,”
“I’m not a delivery girl, I’m the owner,”
“That’s what I told them, but they said that since you have one of the most popular bakeries in Chicago and that you’re always here, they insisted that you deliver them,” I sighed. “They also figured that Chicago’s best bakery should deliver to Chicago’s best team,” I furrowed my eyebrows.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She looked at me like I had six heads.
“You can’t possibly tell me that you don’t know who Chicago’s greatest team is,” I looked around awkwardly. “No way! You don’t know who the Blackhawks are?”
“Hockey team, right?” She nodded. “That’s about as much as I know,” She deflated.
“Then you wouldn’t know who Patrick Kane is either, I suppose?” I shook my head. She sighed heavily. “It’s his birthday, so that’s why they ordered them. It’s supposed to be this huge surprise for him. That’s another reason why they wanted you to deliver them. They figured that you’d want to meet him,” She shrugged.
“I don’t even know who he is,” I shook my head, “So, they assumed that since I live in Chicago that I would know who the Blackhawks were and that I would be honored to meet Peter Lane?”
“Patrick Kane,”
“Whatever,” I rolled my eyes.
“Yeah, that pretty much sums it up,”
“When do they need them by?” She seemed to hesitate. “Mar,”
“…Tomorrow?” She gave me the same smile that Sasha had given me earlier, but this one said ‘I’m in deep shit, aren’t I?’. I took a deep breath and exhaled to prevent myself from smacking her.
“Tomorrow?” She nodded with that smile. “And you said yes?”
“Yeah,” She whispered. If that grin didn’t come off of her face soon, I was sure it would crack in half.
“Since you make these appointments, you would know that I have six pick ups and deliveries tomorrow. Am I right?” She nodded again.
“We’ve never turned anyone down before?” She tried to offer, but it came out as more of a question. I placed my hand on my forehead and bit my lower lip. A few seconds passed before I nodded.
“We better get working, then.”
+
Marin was nice enough to make me a list of the cupcakes that were ordered forPete’s birthday. She also filled me in on an appointment that was made for today. A man named Brent was coming in to give us an idea of how to do the cake since we weren’t given any details. The lack of organization with this order was making me want to blow my brains out.
“So, we have Brownie Fudge, Tiramisu, Rev Velvet, S‘more, Apple Cobbler, Blackbottom Cheesecake, Dulce de Leche, Cookie Dough, Pumpkin, and Half Baked. You want to get the frostings started? ” I asked Marin as I heard the bell to the front door ring. She nodded and quickly got to work. “Hello,” I greeted the tall, dark-haired man that stood by the display case. He surveyed what was in the case and seemed pleased with what he saw. He looked up at me and gave me a friendly smile.
“Hi, I have an appointment for a cake,” I nodded and grabbed my sketchpad from under the counter.
“Brent?” He nodded. I held my hand out to him. “I’m Julie,” I led him over to one of the café tables that we had out front. “So, what are you thinking of doing?” He pulled out a piece of paper that was folded in his pocket.
“We were thinking about doing something like this,” He unfolded the paper. The image of a plain, three-tiered cake stared back at me. I nodded in approval. “We want it white,” I started to sketch the tiers, making little side notes as he continued. “The Blackhawks logo has to be on it since the organization is throwing the party for him. And the obvious ‘Happy Birthday Patrick!’ on it. Ya know, just keep it hockey related and you can do anything you want with it. We trust you with whatever you do,” He offered me a grin. I continued to make notes until he stopped speaking.
“And you guys requested that I deliver everything?” He nodded.
“Yeah, Pat’s a huge fan of your shop and I’m more than positive that he would love to meet the amazing person that made his cake and the guest’s cupcakes.” This caused me to blush.
“And what time would be best for the delivery?”
+
The cake was finished. I had personally made the cake and everything that went on it. I had to call in some of the interns and other workers who had the day off to help with not only the cupcakes, but the other orders that had to be finished by tomorrow.
Three quarters of the cupcakes were now topped and packaged for the delivery and were put in the cooler to keep them fresh. Patrick’s cake had been a challenge for me, considering I didn’t know the first thing about hockey, but I got it done and it looked incredible. One of the interns helped me move it to a cooler to let everything finish setting so it would be easy to transport tomorrow.
Marin looked about ready to shoot herself. She had been baking and topping cupcakes for the past four hours and she still wasn’t done. I grabbed a piping bag and started helping her.
“Goddamn cupcakes. Goddamn Blackhawks. Goddamn icing. Goddamn…damn,” I chuckled at Marin and shook my head.
“You did this to yourself,” She glared at me, clearly not happy with what she was doing, and kept doing what she was appointed to do.
“Goddamned boss,”