Small Town, Big Cookie

Sara had stuck the newspaper advertisement to the refrigerator door with the magnet from the gas station down the road. They had other magnets, but they were in the boxes that had never gotten unpacked. She read the contest rules again and sighed.

When they had moved to a small town, the idea was that they were escaping the stress. They wanted to get away from the hustle and just exist for a little while. No more pre-ordering coffee online so they could skip the line, no more expensive rent that dented every paycheck they pooled, no more small businesses run into the ground by chains popping up next door. Lachlan had suggested a small town near where he grew up, and Sara had loved it. The sting of her closed bakery fresh in their minds, the two had packed up and moved on.

Lachlan blew through the door with a few snowflakes and kissed Sara’s cheek.

“How’s the planning going?” He asked, as he wrestled off his winter layers. His long hair was tousled by his wool hat.

Lachlan had gotten a job immediately. The hospital was thrilled to have another nurse, especially one as experienced as him. He had settled in quickly and thoroughly enjoyed the slower, quieter life. Sara hadn’t adjusted so quickly. She filled out the forms and signed all the paperwork to open her new bakery, but it hadn’t flourished like she dreamed it would. As small business in small places do, it started…small.

“It’s going,” Sara forced a laugh. “I can’t quite figure out the logistics of it.”

She pulled the ad from the fridge and reread the rule Cookies must be baked as one entity. The town was pulling a stunt to try and increase tourism by participating in a contest to make the biggest cookie in history. Sara was an obvious candidate, but didn’t really believe that she, or anyone in the town, would be able to bake an internationally ranked cookie in the next few weeks.

“My thought was that we could ask the pottery studio to use their kiln? But I think that would involve at least one health code violation.” Sara waved her arms theatrically. “How do I bake something bigger than an oven?”

“You should ask Mickey,” Lachlan said earnestly, “he helps out with the school plays and people say he’s really good at creative stuff like this.”

Mickey was a mechanic that worked down the road. Lachlan had met him when their car started rattling, and they had quickly become friends. They had gone to Mickey’s for dinner a few months ago, and had met his two daughters. He had towered over the petite girls who had, after a bit of prompting, told Sara and Lachlan about the play they were in at the high school. Lachlan, infinitely more at ease with children than Sara, had learned all about the drama of drama club while Sara memorized the pattern of the wallpaper.

“I really think he’d be able to help. Plus, it might be nice to work on a project with someone else.” Lachlan didn’t meet her eyes.

Sara knew that she hadn’t been adjusting well to their new life, but both of them knew they couldn’t afford to move again. She just wasn’t as outgoing as Lachlan. It didn’t come as easily to her.

“Yeah, you might be right. I’ll call him tomorrow.” Sara stuck the clipping back on the fridge.

~

Sara called Mickey from the bakery early the next day. She divided her attention between Anne’s non-standard cookie decorations and Mickey’s muffled, but cheerful, voice on the phone. Anne was Sara’s only employee so far, and she was surprisingly energetic for a college student trying to make some extra cash.

“Anne, please. No designs that aren't on the list! Mickey, I don’t even know how to start. I think the record is 100 feet across.”

“100 feet? And it’s gotta be made in one go?” Mickey’s voice crackled through the poor cell phone service.

Anne iced her own name onto a cookie and then broke it in half. She held half out to Sara, who shook her head.

“Yeah, the rules say it needs to be baked all together, we can’t mush them together at the end.” Sara ignored Anne’s exaggerated eye roll.

“I’ll think on it and give you a call in a bit.” Mickey hung up.

“Don’t we need to taste the merchandise, Sara? You don’t want to end up selling all of them before you realize you didn’t add sugar,” Anne teased. If only her charming smile paid the bills.

Sara shook her head again and told her to stick to the list.

~

Wednesday was pizza night for Sara and Lachlan. They tried to bridge the slump in the week with pizza and a movie, but it didn’t always work. This Wednesday they sat mostly in silence as they tried to focus on a Hallmark romcom.

“I talked to Mickey,” Sara offered up.

“Yeah? What did he say?” Lachlan perked up.

“He didn’t have any revolutionary ideas, he said he would think about it and get back to me.”

“Well that-”

“And Anne was on my nerves today. I feel bad because she’s young, but how hard is it to focus and just follow a pattern? Her technique is good, but I’m the one who has to sell all of her personalized stuff and if I can’t it’s just wasted dough.” Sara was talking herself into a worse mood.

“She was icing bad designs?”

“Not bad, just complicated. It’s a waste of time.”

Lachlan threw her a puzzled look.

“Sara, cut her some slack. She’s a kid working at a small part-time job, it’s not the end of the world if she wastes a little time on a pretty cookie.”

“Small job?” Sara flared. “Would you say someone working at the hospital part time has a ‘small job’?”

“You know what I mean. It’s not-”

“I know what you mean.” Sara cut Lachlan off and stalked out of the room.

As she left, her phone in her pocket started buzzing.

“Hi Mickey, it’s not a great time.”

“Hey Sara. No problem, just wanted to let you know I have an idea for the whole cookie situation. Can you be at the high school tomorrow round 5? I’ll be picking up my girls about then.”

Sara agreed, but more and more of her wanted to give the whole thing up.

~

Mickey was standing out by the surprisingly well-maintained football field when Sara got there. She tried to shake his hand but he reached out and pulled her into a warm hug. He quickly outlined his plan, pointing around the students who were running drills on the field.

He pitched the basic idea of a very long cookie. If they were able to crowdsource folding tables, they would be able to set them up in a serpentine pattern across the field and lay the dough out over the tables. Then, he would be able to rig a mobile heat source to move along the table and bake each part of the cookie going down the line. It would all be baked in one pass, it would just take a long time.

Sara was impressed by the simple elegance of it. The rules didn’t specify the cookie had to be the widest, just the biggest. As soon as she began to entertain the idea, she hit the big snag.

“Mickey, we’re going to need so many tables. Even if everyone I know lent us a table, it wouldn’t be nearly enough.” Sara sighed. The idea was slipping through her fingers like sand.

Mickey winked. “Lucky for you, I know a lot more people in this town and a bunch of em owe me favors.”

Sara was already shaking her head. “I can’t ask you-”

“Don’t need to ask! I’m offering.”

“Dad!” A flurry of scarves and hair ran up and started telling Mickey about their day. Details of play practice and a science test and a sleepover that weekend blended together as the two girls talked over each other.

Mickey laughed and told Sara to think about the idea and let him know what she wanted to do. Sara watched as the giant man listened intently to his daughters and let them lead him to the car.

~

When she got back to the bakery, Sara was surprised to see all the cookies iced and the display case organized. Anne was wiping down the counter, singing along to the radio. She wasn’t much older than Mickey’s daughters.

“Anne?” Sara asked hesitantly. “Do you want to help me draw up the next set of icing templates?”

Anne flashed her dimples and wiped her hands on her apron. She sat down and pulled a pencil out of her mussy bun as Sara locked up for the day. They drew quietly for a few minutes before Anne asked Sara if Mickey’s idea was any good. Sara explained the whole thing before voicing her doubts.

“It’s just too much to ask from people.” Sara put her pencil down.

“Wow, bleak,” Anne said sarcastically. “Guess you have to let your dreams die.”

“Excuse me?” Sara bristled.

“Last year everyone pitched in so we could build a homemade ice maze. Everyone chucked in some money to buy giant blocks of ice and set them up in the center of town, and then it melted the same day because no one thought to cover it. A few years ago, for Halloween, some kids turned the high school into a haunted house. Terrible idea, I think there’s still fake blood in some of the storage rooms.” As Anne went into more and more detail, Sara couldn’t help but laugh. “Point is, I think you’re taking it a little too seriously. No one's going to think it’s crossing a line to ask to borrow a few tables.”

“The difference is that I don’t know anyone, and the store isn’t making enough money to even buy all the ingredients.”

“You know me, you know Mickey. If you start making some calls I’m pretty sure people will be lining up to get in on a world record,” Anne held up her sketch, “and I have an idea for the money.”

~

Sara called Mickey on the way home, telling him about Anne’s idea. She had suggested fundraising for the project by letting people buy a customized chunk. They could pay to add their own toppings they wanted baked into the cookie, and then when it was done they could take it home. With Mickey on board figuring out the mobile oven and a plan coming together, Sara relaxed for the first time in weeks.

She floated inside, already planning an apology for snapping at Lachlan. As soon as she got through the door she stopped and sniffed.

“Lachlan?”

“Nothing’s burning!” A call came from the kitchen. “Something dripped to the bottom of the oven, but nothing is actually burning!”

Sara shed her outer layer and wandered into the kitchen, where several mismatched side dishes were set out on the counter.

“I was a dick last night and I wanted to apologize,” Lachlan announced. “I also made dinner, which, based on your favorite foods, is just going to be sides.”

“You don’t need to apologize, but I will take the dinner.” Sara sidled up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

~

Two weeks later, Sara was surveying a maze of folding tables with dough rolled out over all of them. Lachlan, Anne, and many volunteers had woken up at dawn to drive a ridiculous amount of dough down to the high school where Mickey and Sara were testing out what was essentially a cooking torch on wheels. Sara and Mickey’s daughters had affectionately nicknamed it the flamebot.

It was a beautiful day, cold, but sunny. At noon, Sara gave Mickey the go-ahead to set the flamebot loose, and everyone stepped back to watch it meander down the lines of tables. A local camera crew had set up and was watching the action. As Mickey and the torch moved down the line, several people came up to ask Sara how much she charged for catering, or for other special events. She didn’t have an answer for them, but gave out her card and told them she would get back to any emails.

Anne snuck up with a chunk of cookie and broke it in half.

“Pinched it off the starting end. We should probably test it out before people start digging in.” Her eyes sparkled.

“Yeah, probably a good idea,” Sara glanced around before popping it in her mouth.

Lachlan wandered up, rubbing his gloved hands together.

“Do we have to take this all home with us?” He asked nervously.

“We should probably work on unpacking the rest of the boxes before we bring it in.” Sara leaned against him and smiled.