Chapter Text
The oven had beeped almost ten minutes ago, but Simon just now had a chance to run and take the cake out. Burnt, of course. That was just the way this day was going.
It would’ve been okay if Simon hadn’t been alone. Josh used to work the same shift, but he’d saved up enough money to go back to school, and had left with Simon’s encouragement. Good for him, following his dream. They’d tried to find a replacement, and North had offered to work part-time, but she also told Simon all the time where his asshole customers could stick their idiotic demands. Probably not ideal.
So Simon kept things up during the day, and Daniel came in at night to clean up and start the next day’s baking. They saw each other for a few minutes every morning and night in addition to texts, and that was just fine.
After being suddenly kicked out on their eighteenth birthday, the twins had had very different reactions. Simon just wanted to get on with his life as best he could, since there was nothing he could do about it. But Daniel was hurt, and wanted to fight it, fight the family who had loved them (had they?) for eighteen years. It wasn’t worth it. Simon was too tired to get into arguments. He had a job and a place to sleep, and some friends. Sure he missed the rest of his family. But he and Daniel were getting by.
There had been a new guy a few weeks ago, Ralph, but he just wasn’t comfortable interacting with customers. One side of his face was heavily scarred: Something had happened to him, and he was absolutely terrified of people. That he’d even come to the interview was a bit of a miracle, seeing how he acted whenever someone came in, or when Simon asked him to do something. So after a couple weeks Simon had gently asked if Ralph might like to try working nights instead, when it was just Daniel and no customers. He looked so relieved, and almost cried as he thanked Simon profusely for not firing him.
Daniel hadn’t been happy at first, but he’d given Ralph a chance. And when Simon woke up the next morning, his phone was full of snide texts about how he made a joke and Ralph acted like he’d been kicked, or how Ralph had dropped a whole sack of flour and it got everywhere. But when Simon asked if he was going to need to let Ralph go a few days later, Daniel said no, he was twitchy and weird but he could follow directions and was okay when he wasn’t overthinking things. That was a huge load off Simon’s shoulders. …Emotionally, not physically. It still didn’t help him during the day.
A few more people applied, but no one really caught his eye until April, when a young man around his age walked into the bakery, a bit overdressed for the setting. His face softened as he inhaled, and a smile flitted across his serious face. He walked up to the counter.
“Hi, I’m Markus. I have an interview at twelve?”
His eyes were gorgeous. One green, one blue. Simon couldn’t stop looking at them through the whole interview. Definitely worth skipping lunch. His face was expressive too, and he spoke like he was used to giving speeches or negotiating deals.
“Why… do you want to work here?” Simon asked, genuinely curious. This guy could probably talk his way into a lawyer position.
Markus’s shoulders slumped. “I… Can I be honest? I finished school, and I’m just… not excited about it. I majored in Political Science, and I was pretty good, but the thought of being in politics really sounds awful. I want to help people, but the more I learned, the more I saw that the people who have that power… don’t. And if I did get in the position where I could, I’m kind of afraid it would warp me. I didn’t want to risk that.”
“I – I doubt that,” Simon said with a chuckle.
“No, I’m serious. I don’t want to turn cynical and power-hungry. I just – I don’t know what I want to do.” Markus looked down. “The worst question you can ask is where I see myself in five or ten years. I don’t even know where I see myself next month.”
It was so tempting to reach out and take his hand. “I understand that. I don’t think you have to know, though. For the record, I always hated that question, too. We’re just trying to survive, right? I… do have to ask that you would… let me know as soon as possible if you decide this isn’t what you want to do. Or if something better comes up.”
“Of course – I’ll be professional,” Markus assured him quickly, straightening up a bit in his chair.
“Good.” Simon smiled thinly. “Ah – I’ll check your references, but… unless you’re a serial killer, it’s looking promising. Um. If you do have a criminal record, of course, I’d still be willing to give you a chance depending on the charges…”
“No! No, no criminal record, just a speeding ticket a few years ago. I – thank you for… taking me seriously. Everywhere else I’ve applied wasn’t interested, said I was ridiculously overqualified.”
“Well… you are. But if you want this, and you’re willing to do the job, that’s… honestly all I need from you.” He smiled and got up, bringing back a little packet of cookies to hand to Markus. “Here. …They’re a couple days old already, so eat them today. If you care about that kind of thing. One of the job perks is taking home anything that’s too old to sell. Get ready for a lot of carbs.”
Markus laughed, taking the cookies, then clasped Simon’s hand warmly. “Thank you! That’s – I’m… looking forward to it. The job, and the carbs. All of it. Thanks.”
His hand was strong, warm, and more calloused than Simon had expected. He smiled back, a little dazed. “I’ll be in touch in the next few days!”
All Markus’s references checked out, and Simon called him on Friday. He started training Monday morning. He picked up on the cash register easily, and his sincere nature had just enough humor to make him appealing to customers.
Well, not just to customers.
On Saturday morning, Simon woke up to a text from his brother.
Daniel: So is your new guy working out?
Daniel: I don’t think I can take another of your rejects on night shift
Simon: No he’s amazing.
Simon: I mean yes he’s working out.
Simon: I take it Ralph’s still doing okay?
Daniel: He’s a complete disaster.
Daniel: I’ll punch your teeth out if you even think about getting rid of him.
Simon: I wouldn’t dream of it. It’s your decision.
Daniel: Damn right
Daniel: So is your guy good enough that we could ramp up production? You could get back to decorating again, making fancy stuff?
Simon: I don’t know yet. I think so, once he’s more used to it. Any more name ideas?
Daniel: No rhymes and no puns
Simon: That limits things a lot. Alliteration?
Daniel: You’re on thin fucking ice
Daniel: Don’t stay late today
Simon: I won’t. Sleep well.
Saturdays and Sundays were half days, and usually the busiest days. Simon usually flopped down and fell asleep soon after he got out both days. He couldn’t wait until Markus was trained up to help with that. Maybe some day they could earn enough to pay more people, but right now they were barely breaking even with four people, with Simon and Daniel only taking out enough for the building’s monthly lease and a little supplemental food. But if they could get to a point where they weren’t sinking, maybe things could look up. Maybe they could do more than just survive.
“Those are really good,” Markus said when they hit a lull on Monday.
Simon looked up from the tray of cookies he was icing. “Oh – thanks. It… they look so exotic, but they grow in the south. Not even as far south as you’d think.”
“Passion flower?” There were no customers waiting, so Markus moved closer to get a better look.
“They look so surreal, almost like a piece of abstract art. …I was surprised when I saw a real one for the first time a few years ago.”
“…You like abstract art?”
“I’m… not quite that cultured,” Simon muttered with a smile. “But sometimes. I… feel like I can get away with being bad at art if I call it abstract.”
Markus laughed. “What? You’re not bad at art, these are great! It’s not something I would ever think to put on a cookie. I like it.”
“…I mean, it’s just a sugar cookie, nothing special.” Simon was blushing now, he could feel it. “But yeah, you can’t just go to Panera and get one like this. We’re going for the niche market more than the mainstream.”
“Would you mind if I tried?” Markus asked. “It’s been ages since I painted.”
“You paint?” Simon leaned forward, putting the icing down to let the cookie dry.
“Oh – it’s always been a hobby of mine. I mean, in the sense that I used to do it a lot and I still like it but I haven’t done it in years. My dad’s really into it, he’s been trying to get me back into it, but I’m a little hesitant.”
“Well – you’re welcome to decorate any cookies you want. If they look bad, they’ll still taste good. But I can’t imagine they would look bad either.”
After the lunchtime rush, the two took out a tray of sugar cookies Daniel and Ralph had baked the night before and all the icing tubes and food coloring.
“We can mix more colors easily,” Simon said. “For this kind of icing it’s just powdered sugar, water, and a little butter.”
Markus wasn’t sure how to make the icing do what he wanted, but he worked it out quickly and was soon making splashes of color, contrasting streaks, and some recognizable shapes in the chaos.
“…My style is a little abstract,” Markus said with an apologetic smile. “I know it’s not for everyone.”
“They’re… wow, you put a lot of feeling on a cookie,” Simon murmured. He took a picture for his collection, and to send to Daniel later (he was a lighter sleeper than Simon, who could fall asleep anywhere). And it was a good thing, because they sold out well before closing.
“So we – Daniel and I – when we took over this place, we always talked about making really… different things,” Simon told Markus eagerly as they closed up. “Like interesting flavor combinations, and interesting decorations. We’d do a good mix of cute and weird, but nothing you could find anywhere else. And we’ve been stretched so thin lately we haven’t had time, but with you here – and Daniel’s got help overnight too, I’m not sure how much help he actually is, but Daniel likes having him around anyway – we could actually do that! Like – do something really creative that we could actually be proud of selling, and maybe business would pick up, too!”
“I mean, what we’ve got now is good, I’m pretty happy selling it,” Markus pointed out. “But I love that idea! I’ll think of some more things – you don’t mind, do you?”
“Not at all!” Simon grinned, clasping his arm briefly. “You’re part of this place too now! We can all make it what we want it to be. Daniel and I have been talking about renaming the place – it’s been Jericho Bakery since it opened, before we got here. Daniel says no puns or rhymes, and that makes it hard…”
Markus laughed. “I’ll think about that! A complete rebranding to make it… make it our own. I like that.”
“What we really need is advertising,” Markus said one morning when he and Simon were decorating some cupcakes. They were raspberry basil cakes – Ralph’s idea, apparently – and the two were topping them with pink and green shapes. They were also watching the two customers in the café, an older man with long gray hair and rumpled clothes, and a young man a bit older than them in a blazer and matching slacks. They came in now and then, usually right when the doors opened or when they were about to close. Some kind of cops, though they didn’t wear uniforms.
“We put flyers around sometimes,” Simon offered. “And the Facebook page has a few hundred followers.”
“Where do you put flyers?”
“Um – grocery stores. …Really just Aldi. And around campus, I think that’s a big draw.”
“I think you’re right… but for the quality we’re making, we could think bigger. Go around the upscale grocery stores. Stores downtown. Art galleries – oh, I think my dad’s got a show coming up. Would you be interested in catering?”
“Um. I… hadn’t really thought about it, but… yeah, I guess so! Uh – how many people?”
“I don’t know, it varies, I’ll see what information I can get. We could even send a sample over to Stratford Tower, see if they’d be interested in saying a bit about it or coming down here.”
“You think they would?”
Markus shrugged. “I think it’s worth a try! …And actually, I do think they would. You make good stuff.”
“We do,” Simon agreed, grinning.
Simon: What would you think about catering?
Daniel: What kind of event?
Simon: Markus’s dad is an artist, he’s got a gallery opening coming up.
Simon: Sounds like a good chance to get the word out and do something impressive.
Daniel: Maybe
Daniel: Who are you trying to impress?
Simon: Shut up.
Daniel: Well I was just being an ass about it but let’s be real, I know who you’re trying to impress
Simon: You’re still being an ass.
Daniel: I know
Daniel: When are you bringing him home?
Daniel: Wait, he hasn’t spent the night already has he?
Simon: NO he hasnt
Simon: Because you’re like this.
Daniel: okay
Simon: Sorry.
Daniel: Whatever its fine
Simon: Would itbe okay if I brought him over some time?
Daniel: It’s your place too, do what you want
Simon: You know I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t respect your space. You’re important to me.
Daniel: Yeah, bring him by, we could make breakfast for dinner or something
Daniel: And if he’s as much of a nerd as you make him sound like, he’s perfect for you
Simon: Ha. What about you, meet anybody lately?
Daniel: You know my social life.
Simon: How’s Ralph?
Daniel: It’s not like that with Ralph
Simon: …Wow.
Daniel: Shit
Simon: I didn’t mean it like that at all, but you’ve given me a lot to think about.
Daniel: Leave ralph alone
Simon: I would never bother him. You on the other hand…
Daniel: Fck you I hate you
Simon: Goodnight. I love you!