Page 1 of Midnight Lessons
Chapter 1
Willow
I’m in the zone, piping tiny orange pumpkins and ghostly white specters onto sugar cookies that smell like autumn. The tip of my frosting bag dances with precision, leaving a trail of edible art in its wake.
My assistant manager, Carol, leans on the counter, watching me work. “Show off,” she teases, but her eyes are smiling.
I flash a grin at her without missing a beat on my cookie canvas. “Jealousy is unbecoming, Carol,” I quip, finishing an intricate spider web on a cookie shaped like a haunted house. “You know you love it.”
“Only because your cookies make my diet a living nightmare,” she counters, mock groaning as she eyes a tray of finished treats. “How do you not weigh a thousand pounds with these around all the time?”
“Trade secret,” I say with a wink, adding a final flourish to the last cookie—a grinning skull with green icing for an eerie glow. “Besides, someone has to taste-test these beauties.”
“Ah, the burdens you bear,” Carol chuckles, shaking her head.
The bell aboveThe Bewitched Bakerydoor jingles, signaling a customer’s entrance. I glance up, still smiling from my banter with Carol. It’s Chet Henderson, one of our regulars, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the Halloween spread. Chet is the manager of the local community bank in town and often comes in to buy his employees treats.
“Willow, these look fantastic,” he exclaims, leaning closer to the display case.
“Thanks, Chet. I’ve been working on some new designs,” I tell him, pride swelling in my chest. “Halloween’s my favorite time of the year, you know?”
“Hard to forget in this town.” He laughs, looking out at the streets always decorated for our favorite holiday. “Every day is Halloween around here.”
“Isn’t it the best?” I ask, my enthusiasm bubbling over. “We get tourists coming through all year to see our perpetual Halloween fest. Keeps things lively, doesn’t it?”
“Sure does. And it brings in the tourist dollars. But no one embraces it quite like you, Willow,” Chet says, picking out a cookie, his bald head shining in the overhead lights. “These are going to be the hit of the party tonight.”
“Enjoy them,” I reply, sliding his choices into a box and closing the lid with a gentle tap. “And say hi to the missus for me.”
“Will do,” he calls over his shoulder as he leaves, the bell chiming his departure.
I let out a contented sigh, looking over my handiwork.
Carol nudges me with her elbow. “Queen of Halloween strikes again,” she says with a playful roll of her eyes.
“Long may she reign,” I respond, giving the trays of cookies one last approving glance before moving on to the next batch.
The bell above the door chimes as I finish piping a spiderweb onto a particularly plump pumpkin cookie. I glance up to see my parents pushing through the door, smiles as wide as the October sky outside. Dad’s already looking at the display case while Mom’s eyes twinkle with that mix of pride and amusement she saves just for me.
“Willow, these are marvelous.” Mom gestures to the haunted house made from gingerbread cookies standing tall amongst its spooky brethren.
“Thanks, Mom.” I beam. “I wanted to try something a little more 3D this time.”
“Your talent never ceases to amaze us, sweetheart,” Dad adds, his voice carrying the same warmth as the oven behind me.
Before they can say more, a whirlwind that answers to Billy bursts into the bakery, nearlyknocking over a stand of candy corn bags in his haste. “Willow! Did you make any new cookies? Can I try one? Please?”
“Whoa, there, turbo.” I chuckle, steadying the stand with one hand while ruffling his hair with the other. “You know your sweet tooth will get me in trouble with your mom.”
“But it’s Halloween every day here,” he protests, his big, brown eyes doing that pleading thing I can never resist.
“All right, all right.” I reach for a cookie shaped like a witch’s hat adorned with a purple fondant buckle. “But don’t tell your mom I’m spoiling you. Where is she, by the way?”
“Yesss!” He snatches the treat, his grin threatening to split his face in two. “She’ll be here in a minute. She stopped by the jeweler's next door and told me to go on ahead.” Billy takes an enormous bite of his cookie and dances around with glee.
“Speaking of Halloween,” Dad starts, leaning against the counter, “we’re thinking about turning the front yard into a graveyard this year. Full-size skeletons and all. What do you think?”
“Classic. I love it,” I say, already picturing the tombstones beneath the maple tree.