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'Hey mister?' A boy of maybe seven asked. His wide, hazel eyes peered through the glass at the pastries.
'Please Mr Kowalski? Can I have one?'
The baker looked up, a smear of flour on his cheek. He smiled. The dough hit the countertop with a floppy sort of thud. 'We haven't even opened yet,' he said. The boy gave a nervous smile, and stuffed his hands in his pockets. The change clinked quietly.
'The door was open.' He gestured to the door with one hand, awkwardly.
Jacob knew for a fact the the door was, indeed, not open. His gaze caught the pointed tip of a wooden stick hastily stuffed up the boy's sleeve. The boy flicked it back up clumsily, giving Jacob a sheepish smile.
Jacob was about to give the kid a piece of his mind for effectively breaking into his shop when the door to the upstairs apartment opened. He heard a giggle, full of fondness and amusement.
Queenie.
'Oh, sweetie. I know they look good, but you gotta wait honey. Only another ten minutes. That's all.' She stopped, her features softening. 'Oh honey. I'm sorry about your daddy.'
Jacob looked up at Queenie, whose entire being shined with something he was still struggling to put his finger on, even after a year of remembering. There was something so impossibly warm and loveable about her. Something so drawing and innocent. So understanding and empathetic.
The boy looked down. His eyes glistened with tears. The hand in his pocket shook. Something in Jacob softened.
'You can wait in here. Do you wanna watch while I make the Mooncalves?'
The boy looked up tentatively. 'Oh, could I sir?'
Jacob chuckled and lifted the little hinged countertop up enough so the boy could slip in. 'What's your name kid?'
'Sam sir.'
'Well Sam, you just have a seat here,' he said, lifting Sam up so that he was siting on the countertop. Sam nodded eagerly, eyes watching every move Jacob was making. Queenie leant on the countertop next to him, a vision in soft pinks and whites.
'Do you know what house you want to be in at Ilvermorny?' Queenie asked.
'Thunderbird,' the boy replied without hesitation, and without looking away from Jacob, whose dough was now beginning to resemble some form of strange, long necked animal. 'My pa was in Thunderbird.'
'Wow,' Jacob said, despite knowing next to nothing about these sorts of things. When he looked over, the boy was starting to look sad again.
'Hey Sam, do you want to put the eyes on this one for me?'
Sam's face lit up like a lantern. 'Oh boy, yes please!' He hopped off the counter, and stepped up onto the crate Jacob had pushed over for him. Little brows furrowed in concentration, the tip of his tongue rested between his teeth as he took the blue candies from Jacob's hand and carefully placed them in the dough. He took a moment to appraise the left eye before moving on the the right.
The bell on the door chimed open. 'Sam! There you are! I am so sorry if he was botherin' you.'
Queenie smiled, warm and sunny. 'Oh, he was no trouble at all darlin'.'
The boy's mother smiled, relived. Her blond hair fell in a waterfall of curls down her back. Her dress was beautifully tailored, marked with an eagle's crest.
Sam turned around, a pastry in his hands. 'Look momma! Look what I helped with!'
The mother's face and voice were filled with awe, some of it exaggerated but all of it proud. 'Wow! Well done baby!'
The boy's chest puffed out, and his face filled with a smile. He skipped over to his mother and took her hand.
'You can come back in an hour when it's done, if you want.'
'Oh, why thank you.' The mother said. 'We'll see you then, after we see your auntie Phina.' The last comment was directed plainly at Sam, who pouted.
'Bye! Take care now!'
'Thank you Mr and Mrs Kowalski!' The boy said, one hand clutching his mother's and the other waving enthusiastically. The door closed, the bell ringing out over Jacob's spluttering. He blushed to the tips of his ears. He wouldn't be surprised if his whole body was beet red.
'Mr and Mrs Kowalski,' Queenie said, looking after the boy with fond eyes. 'I quite like the sound of that.'
Yes, thought Jacob. It did have a lovely ring to it. He kissed Queenie on the cheek when she left for work, and prepared himself for a day's work of his own. If Mr and Mrs Kowalski was muttered throughout the day, then it was nobody's business but Jacob's. Jacob liked saying it. He liked how it sounded to him, liked how it made him feel. He'd puff out his chest, say those words. Extend his hand to an invisible diplomat, say in a smooth and charismatic baritone this is my wife, Queenie. Lovely to meet you, have you met my wife? She's Queenie. She's my wife.
The first customer came in, and the diplomat was shoved aside.
The boy did come back an hour or so later, bounding in amongst all the other patrons. His mother smiled and chatted with him for awhile, and was terribly grateful when Jacob gave her a box of pastries on the house.
'Your son is such a delight. A gift for you, for the great start he gave to our day.'
'Thank you so much Mr Kowlaski,' she said.
'Jacob, please.'
She smiled and nodded. 'You're so kind. My son's never met a no-maj before. I wish they were all like you.'
Jacob smiled. What else could he do, or indeed say?
The woman left, with the promise of a recommendation Jacob appreciated but didn't think much of. The wizarding community tended to keep themselves to themselves. So, he finished up for the day, sent his assistant home early, and cleaned up as usual. Each day was the same routine, but Jacob loved it. He worked doing what he loved, and got to sleep next to the woman he loved every night, even if he did have to get up at ass-o'clock every morning.
Each day passed the same, but with one small difference. Queenie started to see more and more people from MACUSA wandering around the office with animal shaped pastries that could only have come from one place. She'd asked Tina about it, she'd only shrugged, and had even collard Newt — when she could peel him from the Director's side. He had no idea, but suggested that maybe word had just got round of a good bakery nearby. She'd narrowed her eyes at him, but he seemed genuine enough.
So, it was one Saturday evening while the rain pelted down outside that Jacob was beginning to think about prepping for close. The universe had other ideas, apparently.
If seeing Percival Graves, in the actual flesh, the day before hadn't given Jacob the fright of his life — dropping a tray full of boiling hot Dougal-lookalikes on your foot and screaming to high heaven didn't count, thank you very much, and Jacob would need to have words with Newt about his fucking terrifying boyfriend — then Jacob's heart might have been in danger of stopping.
Jacob nearly fell off his chair when the door opened to reveal none other than Madame President herself. Jacob's jaw was somewhere with the Subway trains, no doubt taking off with his brain on a short vacation. All he could do was gape like some dull goldfish.
'M-m-m,' speaking was difficult, okay. 'Madame President, ma'am.'
'Mr Kowalski,' she greeted, as formal and as polite as ever. Her black, silk dress had not one bead of moisture whereas Jacob was still lamenting his coat from this morning.
Jacob snapped his jaw closed with a loud click. He could feel the sweat beginning to form on his forehead. 'What can I get for you, Madame President ma'am?'
'Whatever you recommend,' she said pleasantly. Jacob nodded. He was certainly feeling the pressure. He carefully placed two sugar coated doughnuts into a box, hands shaking and palms gathering sweat. These had to be the best pastries he'd ever made ever in his life. Maybe then Picquery wouldn't feel the need to obliviate him into the next century.
'My nephew tells me he helped make a Mooncalf here. He found the experience quite enjoyable. I'll have some of those, if you have any.'
Jacob nearly dropped the box he was holding. 'Of of course Madame President, ma'am,' Jacob managed, almost stumbling over to the Mooncalves that sat warming under heated lamps. Jacob finished filing the box, and placed the cream coloured cardboard onto the counter. He moved to close the cabinet door, but the look in Picquery's eyes froze him.
'He also told me of how kind you were, and how comforting. My brother died when the obscurial attacked, you see.'
Jacob's face softened in sympathy. 'I'm so sorry.'
Picquery shrugged one shoulder, though her eyes spoke of great grief. 'It is what it is. It was his time.'
Jacob nodded. He put the purchases through the till, with a discount. Picquery handed over the cash with a smile.
'No matter how hard we try, I suspect magic will always be a part of you Mr Kowalski. Perhaps, if we all showed the same kindness you showed my nephew, the world would be a better place.'
Then, she was gone, the door closing behind her. Jacob fell back to lean on the counter. Perhaps, he thought, the world would be a better place indeed.