Mrs Muffins Novels & Stories

“Having a shower then going to the dining room getting us both something to eat. He's bringing it up here.” “Tell him to come straight here, I'll get someone to bring you both food up.” Oscar joined us just a couple minutes later, and his backside hadn’t even touched the chair yet when someone knocked on the door. Paula was a close friend of my mum’s, and was easily my favourite member of the kitchen staff because it’s her recipe that is used for the chocolate muffins, and she’d brought up not only breakfast for the boys and coffee, but she’d brought me up a tray of sweet snacks too.

At some point I must have slept because I wake with a start in the early hours of the morning. I realise the faint noise I hear must be Andreas starting up for the morning, so I lie in bed listening to the sounds, feeling less alone. When it is clear that I am not going to be able to go back to sleep, I get up and make a coffee. I am tired but antsy, so I do what I always do when my life spirals out of control: I bake. Muffins are my friend this morning, so I find myself making several batches. I know I make mean apple and cinnamon muffins, but this morning I go further, adding lemon and poppy seed, carrot and pecan and savoury bran to my repertoire. I also make a couple of chocolate fudge c

*** "Good evening Mr. Kusuma, introduce me Maharani, a new employee." A woman greeted me politely. It turns out, this is the new employee. She was tall and big, but not fat. Not very pretty but attractive and clean. Her body gestures indicate that she is a strong and confident woman. Maharani Nice name. * I had a really good dinner. She is good at cooking. The menu is common, but there are additional flavors that make it more delicious. It was surprise I finished two plates. The taste of fresh food raise my appetite.

We were the worker bees in the pack hive. “Well, I made you a sympathy muffin because I thought you’d need it,” Bethany said. She was our resident baker. Her muffins were amazing and the best I had ever tasted in my entire life. “You should still give it to me because I didn’t see the tears he cried from the pain, so I need sympathy for missing that.” I pouted for effect.

I thought she was being a bit dramatic, but I learned if I didn't want the place to blow up, it was best to keep Tabitha away from the gas source. Pearl eyes the muffin. When she doesn't jump on the offer, and not trusting my sales technique, I up my methods. "Look how colorful it is." I pull one of the muffins from the tray and hold it out in front of her. The head of the woman's auxiliary squints, getting closer to the surface. "Yes, but it's a muffin, and it looks healthy." "Looks can be deceiving, Pearl. You know that." I push the muffin closer but she still doesn't grab it. "Besides you can slather it in butter." Her head nods and she hums. "I do like butter."

“Well, nothing that butter and sugar can’t fix. Now move, woman. Let’s get inside before the universe gives me another parking ticket for standing here too long.” She shifted the box in her hands and gestured dramatically toward the entrance. “Your humble servant awaits entry.” The glass doors reflected us both, her in her oversized cream sweater and jeans dusted with flour, and me in my sleek black coat and fragile calm. Two women on opposite ends of the emotional spectrum, bound by chaos and caffeine. I pulled open the door. “After you, Your Majesty of Muffins.” “Thank you, Your Majesty of Melodrama,” she replied, brushing past with mock regality.

Camila Nothing tastes better right now than peanut butter and yogurt on top of a blueberry muffin. I didn’t have this epiphany until this morning, but I’m confident I’m right. Why else would I be slathering my third muffin in thick white yogurt, licking chunky peanut butter off my thumb while hovering over the sink in the kitchen? Because you’re a crazy pregnant woman. Well, okay. That probably factors in.

Not now, buddy, we have a lot of things planned out for her today. She finishes the pancakes and takes a bite out of the muffins, chewing carefully. A sliver of nerves passes through me, and I internally facepalm myself. I'm Julian Blackwood, Forbes' number one self-made billionaire, and I'm here getting nervous over my wife's reaction to my muffins. "Well… do you like it?" She looks back at me, her blank face fading away as her brilliant smile replaces it. "This is so good!," she giggles, jumping into my embrace.

I was alright, I just needed to grab something to eat. Getting to the cafeteria, the vivid scent of muffins filled the air, my cravings got in. I wanted to have that at once. While I sat munching the tray of muffins, cheese and yoghurt I had ordered, I noticed my phone was blaring. Checking the caller, I stopped chewing that instant. Maurice's mom! I had to come up with the best response that won't make her suspect a thing. “Good day, mother" I said, clearing my throat.

He seems to be doing much better and the pain is slowly fading. "Teach me how to make muffins." ÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷ The last one hour has been so long and so boring, I had to swallow my yawns. And what makes it worse is that my teacher, Mr. Darke, is a pro at this baking shit and he makes it look so easy. I'm sitting directly opposite from him on the kitchen island, eating the scrumptious muffins.