Frosting Her Christmas Cookies - Alina Jacobs Page 0,13
Many of them did have some design skills, though their windows were a bit too scrapbookish and feminine for my taste. Morticia’s window, though, looked very professional and on-brand for Hillrock West Distillery. The bottles of bourbon were placed next to the artfully arranged brownies on small, round reclaimed-wood tables. Gold foil and warm wood accents covered the inside of the narrow shop window. The arrangement was flanked by gold ribbons and glass ornaments. Strands of twinkling lights reflected off of the glass ornaments and the bottles of bourbon.
I snuck another brownie while I watched Morticia work. As I chewed, I counted down as she first realized I was standing behind her, then as she struggled to try and ignore me, then when she finally turned around and threw a Christmas ornament at me. I caught it easily as I regarded the window.
“I bet you wish you hadn’t made orange brownies.”
“They’re not that orange,” she said defensively. “They’re more caramel colored. Anyway, it doesn’t even matter. You’re getting free photos out of this. If you don’t like it, pay someone to do it.”
“Hey, I like it,” I assured her before stealing another brownie before she could stop me.
The judges didn’t seem to care for Morticia’s window or her brownies.
“These are good brownies,” Anu said later that evening, when the sun had set.
The windows were lit up, sparkling lights onto the sidewalk. Morticia’s window looked even better in the dark. Along with the brownies, she also had made actual craft cocktails with the bourbon. I had snapped pictures with my phone and posted them online, immediately earning thousands of likes.
“They just feel like fall, not winter,” Anu continued. “Also, a brownie is not that impressive a dessert.”
“Your window is pretty,” Nick said. “But yeah, not getting holiday vibes. If you wanted to do the gold-caramel-colored theme, you should have done a croquembouche. With its tower of puff pastry drizzled in wisps of caramel, the dessert would have gone great with your window.”
“Yes, but this is America, and in America, pumpkins are absolutely a Christmas food,” Morticia interjected.
“They are?” I asked, frowning.
“In the 1600s, when the Puritans came to America, along with burning witches, they also introduced the concept of pumpkins for Christmas. The leaders wanted to ban Christmas completely, because in England, Christmas was celebrated with brawls in the street and drunken fornication, which included priests in some instances. The Puritans turned Christmas into a religious holiday, and what goes better with self-deprivation than the humble pumpkin? Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas in America without pumpkins,” Morticia said fervently.
“I don’t eat pumpkins at Christmas,” Nick told her flatly.
Morticia didn’t even blink. “Maybe you should branch out.”
“Hope this doesn’t get you sent home,” Anu said, cutting the tension.
“Hope it does,” I thought I heard her mutter, but then we were on to the next contestant.
Keeley had made an impressively tall layer cake. When she cut it open, sprinkles and edible glitter spilled out.
“The cake is very good,” Anu praised, “with a nice crumb. The color gradient on these layers definitely says Christmas.”
“The window display is a bit too sparkly for my taste,” I said. “I’m not sure that it’s as on brand as what Morticia installed.”
Keeley scowled for a moment, and Morticia smirked, though her face returned to its mask when she noticed my gaze.
“But,” I said, showing Keeley the Instagram post of the video of her cake I’d made, “it seems like a number of people do like your cake.”
“Oh, Jonathan,” Keeley said with a sharp grin, “everyone likes my cake.”
“And she does mean that,” Morticia said.
“I need a break,” I said later when I was back at my condo. I owned a penthouse in one of the developments the Svenssons had done across the street. Now that we were fully in the swing of our Christmas marketing push for Hillrock West Distillery, I actually had time to spend at home. “When did it become so lonely?” I mused aloud to the empty living room.
I wanted more of Morticia’s brownies. Actually, I wanted some of Morticia.
I flipped to my Instagram feed. There were a ton of likes on the pictures of her window. There were also calls for the recipe for the brownies and a heated argument about whether pumpkin was an appropriate Christmas food. On the post of Keeley’s cake, however, there was more drama, including someone claiming she had stolen the idea from Chloe Barnard, my brother Jack’s girlfriend and owner of the Grey Dove Bistro franchise.