Just Desserts

TW: Mentions of Abuse and Death

The scent of strawberries and cooked sugar wafted through the air. Customers eagerly waited as Miss Flora set freshly made strawberry crepes out for display. They were absolutely gorgeous, the bright red berries and sweet cream cushioned in a golden brown crust. Miss Flora smoothed her apron and smiled at the crowd.

“Alright dears,” she said cheerily, “Everyone wanting strawberry crepes can come forward!” People swarmed the counter, waving money in the air as they called for different desserts. Crepes, cupcakes, tarts, and pie slices flew into customers' hands as Miss Flora’s assistants tried to keep up. But through it all, Miss Flora still had her smile. No one had ever seen that smile slip from her face in the last fifteen years. Ever since she was a teenager with bouncy brown curls and flour dusting her rosy cheeks, she had been enchanting her village with her baking. And even though her hands were stiffer, and subtle lines formed on her lovely face, she still had the ability to sprinkle magic in every dessert. Perhaps in more ways than one…

When the evening rush ended, Miss Flora stepped back and dabbed at her face with a pink handkerchief, “Is everyone alright back there?” she called to the back.

“Yes Miss Flora,” everyone responded.

“That’s wonderful! Now, the rush is over so I think everyone deserves a break. I put some cookies in the break room, please enjoy!” Happy chatter and cheers permeated the space as the assistants filed into the backroom. All except one. A blonde girl with a smattering of freckles and purple glasses wrung her hands near the wall. 

“Um, Miss Flora? Could we talk for a second?” she asked quietly.

“Of course Sheila, what’s the matter?” Sheila took a deep breath and dropped her hands.

“I have a special request for you.” Miss Flora’s gray eyes gleamed and she nodded slowly.

“Follow me, love.” They walked through the kitchen, bypassing the normal appliances and going straight to a backroom. Unlike the bright pink and white exterior of the bakery, this room was dark pink and filled with heart-shaped lanterns. A desk with squishy chairs was pushed to the side while the rest of the room contained a small kitchen. The smell of cooked sugar, vanilla, and something bitter filtered through the space. Miss Flora pushed a bowl of peppermints near Sheila as they sat down.

“Now, what can I do for you today Sheila?” 

“Well, I…” Sheila cleared her throat and wrung her hands again, “There’s this boy that I like at school, Ryan… And I think he’s interested in me too, we talk all the time, and we’ve even gone out together. Well, we were in a group of friends, but it was still nice.” Miss Flora nodded. “I really wanna ask him out, but I don’t want to screw it up and embarrass myself…” Sheila took a deep breath, “Is there something you can make to boost confidence? I think I can ask Ryan out, but I need a push.” 

Miss Flora’s smile stretched into a grin, “I have just the thing for you Sheila! This one’s a classic actually.” She reached underneath her desk and pulled out a black lacy cookbook, notepad and pen. She clicked the pen open and wrote for a moment before looking up again, “Firstly, do you have any allergies?”

“Uh, I can’t eat raspberries.”

“Do you need your desserts gluten-free?”

“Nope.”

“Are you sensitive about needles?”

Sheila ‘s brow furrowed“...Why are needles going to be involved?” Miss Flora looked up from her scribbling.

“I’m going to need a few drops of your blood. That’s to make the magic more personal to you.”

“Oh. I mean, I’ll deal with needles if I need to…”

“Wonderful!” A needle prick and a handshake later, Miss Flora was ready to prepare the perfect dessert for sweet little Sheila. All she needed to do was to wait for the bakery to close for the day…

All was quiet as Miss Flora prepared to bake once more. She did the usual, tying her flowery pink apron around her waist, setting out tools and opening to the right recipe. But the difference was in the ingredients. There were normal ingredients like flour, sugar and blueberries, but accompanying them was a vial of Sheila’s blood, colorful powders, a sparkling blue jelly, herbs and a glowing butter-like substance under a display case. She set off to work, humming a tune while measuring out ingredients. Her blueberries received generous helpings of blue jelly and purple powder, while the batter received a branch from a mysterious plant adorned with shiny black leaves. Pleasant bubbling and fizzing sounded as Miss Flora mixed and measured. And when the batter and berries were in the baking sheet, she dripped Sheila’s blood into each of the cups. Soon, a batch of sinfully sweet blueberry muffins were nestled in a wicker basket and ready for delivery.

“Here you are Sheila,” Miss Flora said, “These will do the trick!”

“Thank you so much!” Sheila said, hugging the basket. Miss Flora’s heart lifted as she saw the delight in her eyes. It always makes her spirit lift when she makes people happy. 

“Just make sure you don’t eat them too fast, or else you’ll get too overconfident and try more…dangerous endeavors.” That comment earned Miss Flora an eyebrow raise.

“Has that happened before?”

Miss Flora nodded gravely, “I had one boy who wanted to perform in his school’s musical, so I whipped up some cookies for him. He ate almost all of them the day of the show, attempted a backflip off the stage and broke his arm. So, please be careful dear.”

Sheila’s eyes widened and she quickly nodded, “I promise Miss Flora. Thanks so much again!” 

All throughout the workday, Sheila’s smile never left her face. People marveled at her positive attitude and even bought extra desserts at her insistence. Miss Flora smiled to herself. Another happy customer crossed off her list.

Over the next few weeks, it was proven that the muffins were a success. Miss Flora saw Sheila and Ryan regularly walking to the bakery together, flirting and laughing all the way. And she knew Sheila gave herself a burst of confidence when she gave Ryan surprise kisses or got extra flirty with him. All was peaceful and good in everyone’s lives.

But eventually, the peace came to an end. It took from September to the middle of October for a dark change to occur. Miss Flora was in the middle of closing when she noticed a dark haired boy hurrying to her. His curls swung as he ran, his panic stricken eyes looked all around him, and there was a large red bruise near his hairline.

“Excuse me, are you Miss Flora?”

“Yes I am. What can I do for you?” The boy glanced inside the bakery before looking at her with terrified eyes.

“Um, my name is Andy… And I have an urgent request that only you can fulfill.” The code sentence sent chills down Miss Flora’s spine. Memories came flooding back into her. An apple pie that increased recklessness that when eaten, caused a bloody three-way car accident, a blackberry cobbler that forced people to tell the truth that caused at least five nasty divorces, and a tart that made you hallucinate, that way a wife and children would be rid of their abusive father with probable cause. With every good bit of magic Miss Flora stirred into her desserts, there was the occasional customer who needed something a lot more vindictive and powerful to achieve their goals. Not every curse she brewed ruined lives, but sometimes there was a particularly awful event that would make her skin crawl. This was something she did very rarely. 

Miss Flora quickly shook her head, “I’m sorry honey but I can’t help you now. I’m closed for the night.”

“No, please!” Tears filled Andy’s deep blue eyes, “This was the only time I could come here, I have to be home before my mother gets back!” He reaches into his pocket and thrusts a wad of money at Miss Flora, “You’re the only hope I have, please help me…” Miss Flora sighed and took the money. After carefully counting the bills, she turned and unlocked the door.

“Follow me.” She quickly led him back to the backroom and they sat down. “Now, I should inform you that your payment is short-”

“I know, but I get paid in a week, I can give you the rest soon.” Miss Flora sighed again and placed the money on the table.

“Tell you what, tell me what’s been happening and what you want me to do. Then I’ll decide whether or not to help you.” The words Andy said next turned Miss Flora’s stomach. Tales of horrifying abuse, neglect and pure evil from his mother plagued the air in the room. Many of Andy’s bruises had petty backstories behind them, like the dishes being left out, or a failed test. Images of this poor boy getting hit with belts, shoes, and even his mother’s own hands made Miss Flora’s light gray eyes darken. This was definitely a circumstance where she needed to step in.

“Okay Andy, I’ll help as much as I can. And take as much time as you need to get the rest of the money.” Andy shakily sighed in relief, tears falling down his face.

“Thank you, thank you so much! I promise, I’ll get the money to you soon…” Miss Flora gave Andy a glass of water and gently held his shaking hand as his sobs subsided. She opened his black notebook, still holding onto his hand.

“Now honey, I need to ask you some questions so that way this can go right. Have you contacted the police about anything that’s been going on?”

Andy nodded, “I called, but she talked the police down and they didn’t believe me. All my bruises were healed when they came, so I couldn’t prove anything…”

“Is there anyone you can call to get you out of there?”

“No, my dad’s out of the picture, and my sister’s in jail. I don’t have any aunts, uncles or anything. I’m stuck.” Miss Flora nodded gravely.

“Have you ever needed to go to the hospital for your injuries?”

Andy shook his head, glaring at the desk, “No. Mom was careful not to do anything that would send me to the hospital.” Miss Flora’s brow furrowed angrily, but she kept scribbling.

“Last question. What do you want to happen to your mom?”

Andy slowly looked up from the desk.

“What do you mean?”

"What do you want to happen to her? I need to know in order to make the right dessert." Andy was silent for a while, looking down at the desk.

"I'm not sure. I just... I just want her to stop hurting me."

"I understand love, but I do need to know specifically. I can't help if I don't know..."

"I know, but I'm really not sure." Miss Flora thought for a moment, tapping her pen on bright pink painted nails.

"I'm going to ask a rather sensitive question, is that alright?" Andy nodded slowly. Miss Flora took a deep breath, "Do you want me to kill her?" Instantly, Andy's face paled and he quickly shook his head.

"No no no, please don't do that! I-I know my mom isn't a good person, but I couldn't ever kill her..."

"Okay, okay, I won't," Miss Flora said hurriedly, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry."

"It's okay, it's just..." Andy stood up from his chair and began to pace around the room, "I just don't think my mom knows how much this is hurting me. She's always been hurtful, even when my dad and sister were around. It's always been about her, and she's made everyone miserable if they didn't go along with what she said." Miss Flora handed Andy a tissue as tears trailed down his bruised face, “I just need her to understand what she’s putting me through. Even though I don’t plan on living with her any time soon, I think if she knows what she’s doing, she might get some clarity. I won’t be there to see it, but maybe she’ll finally understand.” Silence fell as Miss Flora thought of what to do. It took a minute, but she finally had a plan . She hadn’t made this cake in a while, and she would have to pick up more red ginger root, but she was confident that she could execute it. Miss Flora flipped her recipe book all the way to the back and held it out for Andy to see.

“How about this one? I can change some of the ingredients if your mother has any dietary restrictions, but I think this will be perfect.” Andy read through the recipe and nodded. He had managed to dry his tears and a hard, determined gleam shone brightly in his eye. 

“Looks good. She won’t be doing anything to me when she eats that.” Miss Flora nodded once again, writing in her notebook again before gesturing for Andy to sit.

“Now, this is usually simpler for… lighter magic, but I need to ask a few more personal questions. Now, how high would you say your pain tolerance is?”

Later that night, the kitchen was alive once again. But instead of the light happy magic and sugar mixing together, there was a distinct bitterness to the air. As Miss Flora chopped up strawberries, measured out her baking powder and chilled flavored gelatin, she was also pouring generously from a large red bottle with a black, bloody skull. Shiny black leaves were mixed into the batter, staining the cake into a gorgeous dark pink, and she carefully dropped in small white berries whose outsides were swirling with shadow. And when the cake was finally done baking, Miss Flora could smell the sweet aroma of decay hidden just underneath the delicate berries and vanilla. As promised, this cake wouldn’t kill, but Andy’s mother will wish it did. Miss Flora’s soft smile stretched to a diabolical grin as she piped deep red roses onto her masterpiece. The woman who dared to harm this innocent child, would be receiving her “just desserts” before she even knew what was coming. Miss Flora would make sure of that.

*To Be Continued*