Kahlan Banks (crumbledown) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2014-04-10 18:24:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2009-10-05, kahlan, shena |
don't poke the preggo bear
Who: Kahlan and OPEN
When: Late Morning
Where: Sherry's Bakery
Kahlan had almost resigned herself to the fact that Keelin wasn’t coming back. Almost. There was a stubborn part of her that refused to accept the fact that she had lost her sister again after just finding her. But what could she do against a barrier that refused to budge? She was still experiencing the backlash from her last effort to free Keelin from the school, a fact that pissed her off to no end. Another contributing factor to her perpetual anger (aside from the baby inside her that was sending her hormones on a roller coaster ride from hell) was the fact that Harper didn’t seem to be suffering any repercussions at all. Despite being a master of her magic, she had to admit that she didn’t have all the answers when it came to the ‘how’ of it all. It probably had something to do with the fact that Harper had only been a bystander, and the fact that Kahlan had added more umph to her side of spell. So much for that working out for her.
As Kahlan pulled out the second sock from the batter she was mixing for mini-cakes, she began to wonder why she had insisted that she could handle the shop on her own. Even though the idea of Harper hovering around her, telling her what to do, made her want to scream, all she could think about was how much she wanted someone else here to deal the customers. And the baking. Honestly, Kahlan didn’t really want to be at work at all, but it was better than sitting at home alone with Pugsley and Woodhouse. She was finally able to mix cinnamon into the batter and pour it into the pans without incident. Now if she could manage to pull them out of the oven without a Barbie showing up melted to the inside, then she would be able to count this batch a success. If only the previous five had turned out so well. Kahlan sighed deeply and cursed as she began to pull at the black long sleeve over-shirt she had on. One of the amazing side-effects of her pregnancy was a tendency to run hot; that, added to the fact that she was surrounded by working ovens meant that she felt like she was in a constant state of almost boiling over. She wadded up the over-shirt and threw it across the room. It was hard for her to care about her clothing, or anything else for that matter, with the growing migraine that was setting in to the base of her skull.
She was busy massaging the back of her neck when the timer went off for her mini-cakes. At the exact same time, the door chimed, announcing the arrival of a new customer. “Christ,” Kahlan muttered under his breath. “Gimme a freaking minute.” This time her voice was louder and the agitation dripped from every syllable she spoke. She pulled the pan out of oven and slammed it onto the workspace nearby. For a moment, she studied it; the cakes needed to be taken out before they set and stuck to the metal. Customers were supposed to be the priority, but Kahlan was much more concerned with the pastries that she had been struggling with all morning. She decided to work with the cakes first. Several minutes later, she finally emerged from the back to the front counter to greet the customer, who apparently had the patience of a saint -- or at least they’d better have, given the mood Kahlan was in. “What do you want?” She followed up the acidic question with a tight, forced smile.