Stanislaw’s Bakery
A few weeks later, while driving to work, Ben was thinking back to Fat Tuesday, and his mistake of getting the rose paczki.
“Why do they only have paczki on Fat Tuesday? Oh, wait, that’s right, The Garden Bakery only has them on Fat Tuesday.”
Getting to the traffic light, he looked at the clock on his dashboard, “Dang, I’ll be late if I try to swing by the bakery,” he thought.
“I know, no one will care if I come with a box of paczki for the office!”
Ben made a right turn instead of going straight, arriving at Stanislaw’s Bakery and Deli. He could see the deli counter at the back of the store, but it had yet to be stocked with various Polish dishes.
“I wonder why I never come in here for lunch? I could go for a good stuffed cabbage or potato pancake.”
He made his way to the register where there were trays of paczki in all flavors, and he could tell from the oil on the wax paper on the trays that these were more traditional than those at The Garden Bakery.
A man was ahead of him in line.
“Can I have one raspberry and one plum?”
The woman behind the counter put the two paczki in a bag, and as the man passed him, Ben thought, “I don’t know why, but that guy looks familiar.”
Ben took his spot at the counter and asked, “Can I get a dozen paczki, please?”
In a broken, English accent the woman said, “Any flavor?”
“A mix is fine. And can you put two raspberry in a separate bag?” replied Ben.
The woman commented, “You should get two different flavor. The rose is very good.”
A sudden feeling of needing to please the bakery owner came over Ben as he grudgingly responded, “Okay, one raspberry and one rose.”
Ben paid for his order feeling better knowing that while he might be late to work, no one would judge him since he brought the paczki. He was also going to be able to explain, as he often did, that you can get paczki all year round if you go to a Polish bakery.
He made his way to his car, opened up his special stash in the separate bag, bit into the rose paczki, and shook his head in his own bewilderment, “Why did I get a rose one again?”
Ben swapped out the rose one for the raspberry paczki which was still in the bag and began to eat the raspberry version. He inhaled while taking a bite, proceeded to sneeze, and powdered sugar sprayed all over his shirt, steering wheel, and dashboard.
Meanwhile, as Ben was eating his paczki in the car, Phil had already pulled out of the bakery parking lot thinking, “That guy looked familiar.”
Phil’s destination was a few miles away. He continued down the street, with his bag of a raspberry and plum paczki resting on the passenger seat, and saw his destination up ahead. He made a turn and drove through the wrought-iron archway that framed the entrance, continuing down the well-manicured, tree-lined road.
He pulled over to the side and got a blanket from the back seat.
With the sun shining through the trees, Phil made his way to the clearing, watching carefully where he was walking. Arriving at his spot, he laid out the blanket just to the side of a headstone which read, “Loving wife and mother.”
Phil took the paczki out of the bag, put the plum paczki on the top of the headstone, and sat down on the blanket. He brought the raspberry paczki near his mouth and said, “This is for you, mom.“
As he went to take a bite of his paczki, he accidentally breathed in some powdered sugar. A sneeze erupted, and as the cloud of powdered sugar covered the front of his clothes, Phil smiled as a tear ran down his cheek.