A Baker And Her Sanity Are Soon Parted
Summary: Katara- a 22 year old baker hires some help by the name of Iroh- who just happens to come with a nephew stubborn enough NOT to try her chocolate- chip cookies.
A/N- YAY! okies, I love Zutara, too. Hope you like it! Review and I'll continue when done with Falling Into A Pit.
The smell, the sounds, the sights, even the hobos that practically live on the subway- I love it all- New York. The busiest town on earth- The city that never sleeps. Or is that Las Vegas? No- I'm pretty sure it's New York.
I've lived here for 3 years- since I was 19. In that time I've learned to love busy New York- it's a bee hive with skyscraper honeycombs, and busy little business men bees, all working towards that reason for living--
Which I don't know. I've lived for 22 years, and have not found the meaning to life. I think it has to do with baking.
It reminds me of my mother.
It calms me down.
It led me to my two bestest friends that AREN'T still in Ireland-
Rachel and Jenni.
Rachel is a cute little 7 year old, who loves my cookies. She likes to call me boss, so I call her kid. I always give her free cookies- she always cheers me up when baking can't. She's my little cookie monster.
She's lived on the streets with her band of family that isn't really a family for as long as she can remember. If it snows, she takes cover in my apartment.
Jenni is 23- though she acts as if she's Rachel's age. She just LOVES my cookies, and gives me a tip every time. Somehow, when we go out to bars, she's always downing bottles and bottles of beer- and somehow never gets drunk. You'd think that I- being the Irish one- would be better at drinking. Damn stereotypes.
Which brings up my ethnicity. I'm Irish, accent and all. Born and raised in a small farming town just outside Dublin. I go and visit for 3 long months each year- during which the bakery closes. When I go back, I gain back my lilting Irish accent- which might have faded, but never much. I am very proud of my country.
My country. How I'd met Zuko- indirectly, of course. It was his uncle whom first introduced us.
I remember how it all started.
I was walking with Jenni who had just gotten the job as my assistant baker/cashier. We had been discussing our friend Aang, who'd just recently lost most of his family in a fire. If only it had been snowing then: It would have stopped the fire. Aang had fallen into a depression, which Jenni and I were going to stop: We were planning a sleepover with him that night.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you two had something going on..."
Jenni was always looking for the tiniest hint of romance, always assuming a hug meant that two people were destined for each other. It irritated the crap out of me. And on occasion, embarrassed me.
Whenever I was embarrassed, I suddenly became very clumsy- oftentimes tripping over my (Untied) Shoelaces.
After which I promptly fell over, falling onto an old man, thankful I didn't hear his spine snap under my weight- though- he was fairly chubby.
"Whoa!"
"Doof!"
"I am sososo sorry sir! You see, my friend Jenni embarrassed me and when I get embarrassed I trip, and talk really fast which is annoying but-"
I had been blurting out what happened at the speed of light, my ears and cheeks growing even redder than they had before- and it wasn't because of the cold.
"It's fine, young lady. I was just wondering which subway to take. I'm going to the 'Honey Bear Bakery'?" He'd asked, in a thick Chinese accent. I assumed he'd just moved here.
At the time, I had been wondering why the hell he'd needed to find my tiny bakery that only tourists, passerby, and the usuals came to.
"Err- That's where I'm going. Might I ask why you need to go there?"
"I'm applying for a job. By the way- my name is Iroh." The cheery old man had said.
He had a beard and sideburns- a warm grey color- and chubby cheeks that were rosy from the snow falling.
"Katara. My name is Katara." I said, introducing myself.
"Okay. You want to take this one here."
I replied, tugging on my brown locks that hung loosely from underneath my knit blue cap, and casually walking towards the subway, through the ocean of people that never stopped producing waves.
I sat stiffly next to the man, while Jenni chat animatedly with Iroh, about how I was 'in love' with Aang.
"And then he got this CUTE red color all over his face- he was blushing SO much! And THEN-"
"Come on Jenni," I said irritably, "We're here."
I walked to my humble bakery, opened the door ad immediately went to the kitchen, forgetting about Jenni and Iroh. A loud 'AAH' interrupted my thoughts, as Iroh stepped into the store.
"You own this shop?"
He's asked, awed.
"Yes, I'm the head baker and cashier."
"Wow. Might I ask for a job brewing tea, then?"
I raised my brown eyebrow at him, blue eyes looking at him.
"Tea?"
"You DO serve tea, right?"
"No." I'd replied, looking at him.
"Well then, you should. It would make you much more money."
My sapphire eyes lit up at this thought: I could make more money.
With more money, I could replace my raggedy old black and yellow striped sign hanging over my door.
"You've got yourself a deal. Nine dollars an hour."
When I'd said this, his face lit up like it was on fire.
"YES! Can I start today?"
He'd asked, looking as if he'd die if he didn't start today.
"Yes. Let Jenni take you on a tour and run you through the basics."
They soon left, Jenni Showing Iroh the back room for people who needed a place to stay, and the kitchen.
I began my day as usual, starting in the kitchen. I began to take out the ingredients needed from the walk in fridge, and began with the bread. I usually sold about 15 loafs of bread in a day, 3 from Ms. Doowindle, whom had 3 children and 5 extended family members living in her house.
As I coated my hands in flour, I realized just how big a deal baking was for me: I had nothing else.
I glanced at the clock- It was 8:00 already! I ran to the front door, and turned the sign to 'OPEN'.
I began to put the already- baked food in the display case in the front counter, which provided a barrier for the employees only area. Those used to drive me nuts when I was a kid, so I went in anyways, never getting scolded because I always helped out.
As I pulled yesterdays bread out, I cut off the stale ends, hollowed them out, and put them next to a large pot on one of the stoves which contained today's soup: chicken noodle.
Smiling to myself, I decided that 560 chocolate chip cookies, 400 peanut butter, 60 chocolate crinkle, numerous loaves of bread, and many other baked good was enough. I had, after all, woken up at the ungodly hour of 4:00 AM.
I sighed, plopping down in my stool as I waited at the register. I would cook much more later, knowing that after the lunch rush, I would be nearly sold out.
A/N- So what do you think? Do you like it, hate it? Constructive criticism? Leave a comment! I'll be updating this after I'm done with Falling Into A Pit, but won't continue it until I get at least 30 reviews. Yeah, I'm that evil.
SORRY!