The Reason for Talent
"Then, would it be all right if I paid you two hundred forty dollars for the cake tomorrow?"
What? How much?
"The apple mango cake from the Sarasa Hotel Patisserie that we always get is a hundred twenty dollars, and since we asked on such short notice and you're going out of your way to make it specially..."
Did the hotel patisserie mix gold into their cakes? How could a cake possibly cost a hundred twenty dollars?
After a brief moment of surprise at the sisters who regularly bought cakes like that, pure logic said she was offering a fairly reasonable price. After all, she wanted my cake more than that hundred-twenty-dollar one. I had no reason to refuse.
"Oh. Then I..."
The man from the second floor, who had only been listening behind my back, cut in.
Hmm? All of a sudden?
"Hohoho, see? I told you it wasn't just our place that fell for Jun's cakes!"
Lily was laughing now, slapping me on the back. That hurt.
But no matter how much I needed the money, I had no intention of making cakes for the second-floor couple as well.
"I'm sorry, but I'm actually extremely busy on weekends too. I'll be going now."
Knock, knock, knock.
Someone at the door. Who? No one was supposed to be coming by.
When I opened it, I found James, the café owner.
"Sorry to bother you so late. But there's something I really wanted to propose before the day was out."
James patted his stomach and smiled warmly. What was this? He seemed to be in a good mood. Why?
"The truth is, I've been looking for someone to help out on the weekends."
"Ah, yes."
I answered, recalling the help-wanted notice posted by the counter earlier.
"Our young, handsome new resident... Excuse me, but what's your name?"
"Jun."
"Right, Jun. Earlier you seemed interested, didn't you?"
I was interested. Now I'm not so sure.
"Ah... I only bake as a hobby, um..."
Instead of answering properly, I lifted Luca from my arms and held him up toward James. Even if I could take the work, I had nowhere to leave Luca, and that was a problem.
"If coming in to work feels like too much, how about supplying me with desserts twice a week instead?"
"Pardon?"
Just like that?
But the owner only laughed heartily, as if he had no intention of taking no for an answer, and held out a sheet of paper.
"It's a contract I put together in a hurry! All the important parts are in there, so go ahead and sign!"
"Dada!"
Luca, don't answer for me!
I scrambled for an excuse.
"Ah, and I don't have a baking certificate!"
"From what I saw earlier, you already have some very enthusiastic fans, and I trust their refined taste without a doubt."
"But..."
"And if you come into the café kitchen to make the cakes, you'd be baking under my supervision anyway, so..."
There would be no problem at all, according to the owner.
"Still... I mean, I really do appreciate the offer, but I have nowhere to leave Luca..."
"We'll make an exception and allow remote work from home for the first time in our patisserie's history!"
You just said I'd be working under your supervision. But the mouth belonging to this man with the sparkling eyes and rosy cheeks would not stop.
"And as it says right here in the contract, I'll give you eighty-five percent of the price of every dessert you supply."
"...And roughly how much are you thinking of pricing the desserts at?"
James beamed and flipped the contract over to show me the back page.
There were separate amounts listed for whole cakes, cupcakes, and tarts, and eighty-five percent of those figures was...
Far too sweet a sum to refuse.
Sunday morning.
I woke to the alarm, then lay still with my eyes closed for a moment. Anticipating how busy things were about to get, I had pushed myself a bit hard working the clay the day before.
Today...
First, since I had agreed to supply desserts to the café downstairs twice a week—Tuesdays and Fridays—I needed to put together a list of items that required cold fermentation or resting during the baking process. And... also...
"Eeeh..."
Slap!
Luca's tiny hand smacked my cheek. Ow. Our baby had quite the strength.
"Mm, Daddy's not sleeping. Daddy's up..."
I'll get you breakfast...
"Baba!"
Smack!
Having claimed his morning meal by striking Daddy's cheek, Luca sank once more into the bliss of rolling over.
"Uuung...!"
"Mm, okay."
When a baby calls, a dad runs. I set down the phone I'd been using to look at exercise equipment and laid Luca on his back.
Not even two seconds after being set on his back, he flipped right over again.
"Ihee..."
...That smile is too cute. Fine.
And for now, it was still all right. Maria had said things would be fine until he started scooting backward and army-crawling.
"......"
Or was it? Had she said I should brace myself for when those started?
I picked up my phone again and ordered two full-body exercise machines with my points: a home rowing machine and a jump rope.
I focused less on building muscle and more on building stamina.
Stamina was what mattered most to me right now.
It had already been four months since Luca and I had been together.
So much had happened in that time, and my life had changed a full hundred and eighty degrees from the day I first met him.
And the Manito App had played a huge part in that change. The app still had two years and eight months left on its term.
I felt I was doing my best with everything I could manage in the moment, but I still hadn't formed a clear plan for what I needed to achieve. So the least I could do was keep moving a little more diligently.
The busy days rolled on.
I started each morning with dawn exercise, then went to work. After work, three days a week I worked clay hard and filmed videos to send to Cassandra; the other two I threw myself into baking.
On weekends I caught up on housework, rested in the gaps, and focused on time with Luca.
I lived each week like two weeks, and then it was Sunday night again.
"Kyaaak!"
Splash!
During bath time, water went up Luca's nose as he laughed and tossed a rubber duck.
"Waaah, waaah!"
"There, there..."
After a war of a bath, I collapsed onto the wide bed with the baby.
"Aigo..."
My back.
"Kyaa..."
Whether Daddy groaned or not, the baby was happy again today. I let myself complain a little to a five-month-old.
"...Mm, Daddy's tired. Our Luca's in a good mood, huh?"
"Eeeh...!"
I set Luca, who had been lying on his back grabbing his own feet and wriggling before toppling sideways, back onto his back.
Smack of a kiss.
"Ihee..."
His laughter was increasing by the day, and so was his movement. He was getting stronger, and sleeping less.
Well done, my son. You're growing so hard.
I picked him up, patted his back, and began walking slow circles around the living room.
The week had flown by without a free moment, but I was reasonably satisfied that we'd gotten through it without any major snags.
Tomorrow it would start all over again, but...
Cassandra, who had boldly promised Maria that she would upload a YouTube video this week, still hadn't contacted me about it.
Even so, it was fine.
Supplying desserts to the first-floor café had brought in a tidy side income, and just knowing something else was moving forward outside of work gave me strength.
Ding-dong!
"Uuung..."
"Mm, sorry. I meant to leave it on vibrate."
I patted Luca's back again as he stirred from the edge of sleep, and checked my phone.
A single website link.
I thought it might be spam, then confirmed the sender was Cassandra and tapped it.
Had she uploaded the video already? Was this the start? My heart gave a little jump.
After a short load, a channel appeared, soft brown tones blended with the image of a classic workshop.
The channel name was...
June's Atelier
Jun's workshop.
...Hmm?
"Atelier" meant an artist or craftsman's studio or workshop.
Well, that concept seemed fine enough. But why my name...?
On top of that, the profile picture featured a graphic of my signature—the one Cassandra had insisted I always stamp with an edition number.
I had assumed the videos we made would go up on the ASMR channel Cassandra already had.
While I was still thinking that, I watched the view count on the video climb.
I clicked the roughly ten-minute video myself. The title of the first upload was, of course, Snow Lily.
"......"
Standing in the middle of the living room with the child in my arms, I watched the video from beginning to end.
The video was...
Tremendous affection poured out of the edit Cassandra had made.
The sounds of me working on the piece carried smoothly and pleasantly through the whole video, and delicate subtitles telling the story of the piece drifted by without ever feeling heavy. At the end came the story of how the video had come to be, and a brief thank-you.
It wasn't flashy, but it had a solid, fundamentals-first finish, and above all it was soft and warm.
It was really good. Good enough that I thought if she kept uploading videos like this, things would surely go well.
But...
I laid the now-soundly-sleeping Luca on the bed, came back out to the living room, and called Cassandra.
"Jun! What do you think?"
Her voice was bright with pride and excitement.
"It's all good, Cassandra. You really worked hard. But..."
I chose my words carefully. I didn't want to sound like I was picking at someone who had poured so much into this.
But Cassandra beat me to it.
"Why did I open a new channel? And why under your name?"
"...Yes. This video, this piece—they're yours and your mother's."
"You're the one who breathed life into the Snow Lily in that video. I thought putting your name on it was the right thing. And going forward, Jun, you'll be making videos beyond pottery as well..."
"Cassandra. I told you last time. All I can do is copy. That's why even if I opened my own channel, I was going to go with something like 'Watch, copy, and keep house.'"
"Jun, that catchphrase is awful."
"That's not the point...!"
My earlier claim that I had "no originality and so couldn't walk the path of art" must have weighed heavily on Cassandra's mind. But what wasn't true still wasn't true.
"Cassandra, I don't know art... and there's really nothing in particular I want to do. But if you name a channel like this..."
"Why do you say there's nothing you want to do?"
"Pardon?"
"You threw pottery because you wanted to help me. You brought Luca home because you wanted to make him happy, and for that child you made clothes and furniture."
"...That's true, but. That isn't art, is it?"
"Right. You still don't know art. For the record, my mother used to say that art begins with expressing what's in your heart."
"......"
"You're a warmhearted person, Jun, so going forward there's going to be so much you'll want to do for the people around you. You may not have known it until now, but from here on that will be the wellspring of your inspiration."
"It isn't... it can't be that."