#anyway willa using baking and maybeck using clay as a way to exert control over their lives?

[izzielizzie]

saturdays

Saturdays in the Angelo house used to be reserved for freshly baked cinnamon rolls, with cream cheese frosting licked off of fingers before the rolls were even taken out the oven. Saturdays were for board games on the living room coffee table, arguing over mortgaged properties or murder weapons in the billiard room until the cat inevitably got bored and jumbled everything up with a swipe of her tail. Saturdays were meant for family. 

Willa’s oldest brother was the first one to pull away, his job at the supermarket as his excuse. And then, after her father’s accident, Willa’s mother and father were too worried about bills and medicine deliveries to remember to make the rolls. Willa took over the role, with the help of her second oldest brother, but then he started dating a girl who was much more interested in exploring Florida’s restaurants than sitting in the messy kitchen in an even messier house. Willa’s brother closest in age to her, only one year younger, tried. He truly did. But he didn’t have much patience for dough, and soon he started to sleep over at a friend’s house every Friday night. And Willa’s youngest brother just wanted to watch cartoons. 

Eventually, all that is left is Willa and a house filled with the echoes of a once-happy family. Her mother notices, tapping Willa on the shoulder as she watches the yeast bloom in a bowl of warm milk. “Isabella, honey, why don’t you do something with your friends instead?”

Willa isn’t friends with the girls her mother is talking about. Not any more. It’s hard to maintain a relationship with people who see you as the “Disney kid”. So she turns to the people who know her best.

Charlene offers to take Willa to gymnastics practice with her (”You could learn a thing or two about being flexible Willers”) but it only takes fifteen minutes for both girls to figure out that gymnastics isn’t for everyone. 

Finn visits his grandmother every Saturday with his family. He offers her the spare key to his house though, “just in case you need somewhere to go”. Willa thanks him, but she never takes him up on the offer. It’s better to wallow in your own home, instead of someone else’s.

Jess and Amanda aren’t allowed to have visitors, and they certainly aren’t allowed to leave their house. And Philby...well...he hardly even noticed Willa was asking him to spend time together. 

Which leaves Maybeck. Willa likes him, or at least she tries to, but his brazen attitude often leaves her reeling. But Saturdays are a busy day at Crazy Glaze and Jelly needs all the help she can get. So instead of being elbow deep in dough on Saturday mornings, Willa finds herself in the back room, kneading clay to the whir of Maybeck’s potter's wheel. They don’t talk much, not for the first few weeks, but soon Maybeck hesitantly breaks the silence.

“It works better if you knead it in a cone shape.” 

Willa startles a little at the unexpected break in their comfortable silence — because somehow in the past month she has become comfortable with him — but shifts over nonetheless to make room for the much taller boy to demonstrate the correct kneading method. She watches Maybeck more than she watches the clay, marveling at the concentration and care on his face. His guarded expression drops and his worry lines soften until he looks like any other boy. Ease looks good on him, and Willa can’t help but smile. He glances over and catches sight of her staring.

“Wills, I know I’m irresistible, but you’ve gotta focus on the clay, okay?”

Willa laughs, his words a little less annoying now that she’s somehow been reminded that Terry Maybeck is just a teenager trying his best. A little like Willa herself.

For the first time in months, Willa wakes up early the next Saturday to make a batch of cinnamon rolls. She kneads the dough the way Maybeck taught her with the clay, and to her surprise the dough becomes flaky in the oven, the cinnamon, and butter, and brown sugar melting into the rolls in a way they never did before. The smell attracts Willa’s youngest brother, who picks one up on his way to the living room with a grateful smile. She flashes a grin, deciding to let him go instead of calling him back and telling him to please, for heaven’s sake, use a plate. She’ll take the small victory.

Willa packs up six rolls while they’re still hot, and borrows the key to her parents’ car. They won’t be driving anywhere any time soon, and she wants the rolls to still be warm when she arrives at Crazy Glaze. She leaves two for Jelly with a note and brings the remaining four to the back room, where Maybeck already has a streak of drying clay across his cheek. It makes him look young and silly, and Willa feels happier at the sight than she has at anything for a long time. 

The smell of cinnamon and sugar lures Maybeck away from the mug he’s molding, and after carefully preserving it and washing his hands, he settles on a paint-splattered stool across from Willa. 

“These are amazing Wills!” he says after the first bite, his mouth still full. Willa grins at him, the dull emptiness she’s felt since her Saturdays fell apart evaporates with every bite he takes. 

“Thanks. I can teach you how to make them if you want.”

Maybeck gives her a real smile, one that’s all enthusiasm and joy, outlined by cream cheese frosting. “I’d love that.”

“How does next Saturday sound?”

“Perfect.”