The Mentor's Secret Recipe

Margie Neilsen got a job at the local Walgreens that summer. It was minimum wage retail but it was air-conditioned and her best friend Barbara Leeland would be working there too.

Margie and Barbara weren't popular in high school. Their awkwardness had yet to dissipate the way it had for others in their age range. They were hoping when they returned to junior year next fall, they would have achieved the montage-worthy transformation you see in the movies.

Margie's job consisted mostly of stocking shelves in the diapers and baby aisle when she wasn’t at the register. Barbara generally worked in the seasonal aisle when she wasn’t ringing up customers. They had hoped for some time in the cosmetics area or in, let’s-not-get-too-crazy-here, Photo Projects, but those were reserved for newly-divorced, middle-aged housewives. Walgreens wasn’t a summer job for them, it was a career, and they took it seriously.

The power hierarchy at the store seemed to revolve around Lena Hendrickson. She was one of those women who’d been popular in high school, no doubt. Lena, with her perfectly made-up face and freshly pressed clothing, walked with confidence around the store as if she owned it.

She sold a well-known brand of multilevel marketing skincare on the side and putting her in charge of cosmetics was something of a conflict of interest. Customers perusing mascara or nail polish were handed a business card and told the items they were looking for were loaded with “cheap poisons”.

“No wonder it’s only $7!” she would point out.

Lena maintained her position in cosmetics, regardless of the department’s low profitability since her assignment there. Margie and Barbara knew Lena probably had inside information on someone in management. She always got what she wanted. Nothing seemed to bother Lena. She probably had the goods on a whole long list of people.

The young women were, at best, average students. They were socially unsavvy in the ways of cliques and networking. But Margie and Barbara were shrewd enough to know there was no better mentor for fast-tracking their metamorphosis than Lena Hendrickson. And they were also smart enough to know the way into Lena’s good graces.

“Um, Lena?” Margie asked one Wednesday afternoon. “Barb and I were wondering if, like, we could go to one of your parties.”

“Yeah,” said Barbara. “We could use some good advice about skincare, and you know, make-up. The stuff the dermatologist recommended isn’t doing a thing for our acne.”

Lena’s face lit up.

“Of course it’s not!” she said. “Those skin doctors are just selling their own products these days, loaded with harsh chemicals. It’s disgusting.” A well-manicured finger touched Barbara’s chin, moving it slightly over towards the better fluorescent lighting on the right.

Lena put on her cat-eye framed readers that hung from a vintage-looking chain around her neck. She studied their faces better than any pharmaceutical shill of an MD. Then she took out two of her business cards and told the girls to come over on a mutually agreed upon date.

“Don’t worry, ladies,” she said with a wink. “You came to the right person.”

Not long after, Myrna Atkinson, who worked in the pharmacy department, found a way to call Margie into the back, away from Lena’s very attentive eye, to talk to her.

“You’re going to Lena’s house?” she asked her.

“Yes,” She answered, confused.

“She’s probably going to serve you cake. Please see if you can take some of it home and bring it to me,” Myrna said. “I’ll pay you.”

She then offered Margie a price for it that was far more than a whole cake would be, considerably more. Myrna refused to provide an explanation as to why the cake was worth such an incredible sum. Margie said she would try but made no promises.

Later on, Barbara was called into the manager's office.

“I called you in here for a favor,” said Mr. Levinson, almost ashamed. “I heard you were invited to Ms. Hendrickson’s home.” The teenager nodded.

“I have no right to ask you, but if I may, I’d like to request that… if she makes you a cake for your visit, perhaps you could bring back a slice for me?” Then he quickly added, “But don’t let her know!”

Barbara thought this was an odd request.

“Look, that cake, it’s an interesting recipe. I’d like to have some so, that I could, ah… try and copy the recipe. Yes, my mother, my elderly mother in the nursing home, well, she loves chocolate cake and Lena has the most amazing recipe that she refuses to share. If you could help me…”

Barbara didn’t know what to say.

“Look,” he said, now whispering. “I didn’t say this but, if you came through with a slice, I think I could find a way to add an additional position in the photo department.”

This was a great enticement for the budding photography buff. She said she would try.

The next Thursday afternoon the two teenagers found themselves in Lena’s well-appointed living room. She was stylishly dressed and her hair was in the same French twist she wore at work.

Before bringing out her make-up products and giving the girls facials, she made coffee and tea. She also brought out a magnificent chocolate cake covered in a smooth glaze. When presented with the cake that the two women had been offered bribes for, they became slightly nervous.

“So that’s the famous chocolate cake,” said Margie quietly as she smiled in an exaggerated manner.

Lena momentarily changed her facial expression subtly. Then her smile grew even wider and said, “Yes, it’s my own personal recipe, been in the family for years.”

She studied the girls, who did not have the ingenuity to keep their secret well-hidden. They were behaving uncomfortably, more awkward than usual.

“If you like it, maybe you’ll want to take some home to share with your families?” said Lena, who continued to watch the body language of her guests.

The girls nodded and their sudden relief was noted by their hostess who made nothing of it. The two young women asked about the recipe.

“It’s really nothing special,” said Lena. “Honest. The real magic is in these moisturizers and serums I have here…”

As the evening continued, the young women received skincare tips, a make-up application, and an offer to join Lena’s team of cosmetologists. The women were impressed by their make-over under Lena’s expert tutelage. They were intrigued by Lena’s sales pitch as well. She ticked off a long list of expensive items her side-gig had financed.

The teenagers were encouraged by Lena, to consider their high school as an untapped market that they could profit from. Margie and Barbara became reluctant. “We aren’t popular. No one likes us. They wouldn’t buy anything from us,” they told her.

“I believe in you both,” she said. “Just think about it.”

On the next day they worked, they brought slices of Lena’s famous chocolate cake to Mr. Levinson and Myrna. The recipients each took off with their cake as if they had received a smuggled diamond that needed to be appraised.

A few days later, Margie and Barbara came into work to find Myrna and Mr. Levinson talking to each other in the break room. They seemed angry and when the two teenagers came in their frustration was directed at them.

“Where did you get that cake from?” said Myrna. “That wasn’t Lena’s cake!”

“Yes, it was!” said Barbara.

“Was she on to you?” asked Mr. Levinson. “Did she know you were giving it to us?”

“No,” said Margie. “Why are you so angry over the cake?”

“You’ve been hoodwinked! You gave us fake cake. We had it analyzed. We wanted the real cake, Lena’s secret recipe cake.”

“We gave you exactly the same cake we had,” said Margie. They had it analyzed? This whole argument was bizarre.

Margie and Myrna went off to their departments to work but Mr. Levinson asked Barbara to stay behind.

“Look,” he said. “Given the nature of the situation, I, ah, I can’t create another position in Photo for you, sorry.”

“But you said you could!” said Barbara.

At that moment, Lena walked by the open door. She smiled when she saw the two of them.

“I couldn’t help but overhear,” she said. “Mr. Levinson, if you promised the young girl something, I think you should do it.” Her smile never changed. She waited a moment and continued on her way.

Mr. Levinson became nervous and backtracked with Barbara.

“Alright, I’ll see what I can do.”

Barbara was more confused than ever. There was a strange unspoken reality going on in this Walgreens and she had no idea what it was.

Later on, Barbara and Margie sat outside for their break. They discussed their odd morning and considered the significance of the cake, Lena, and what Myrna and Mr. Levinson were up to. Lena was obviously the key. They decided to join Lena’s sales team. They wanted to learn more than just skincare.

Lena was delighted when the two teenagers approached her later. “We are going to make a ton of money with that young adult market you ladies have access to,” she said.

Margie and Barbara still expressed doubts about their abilities. Lena said she would teach them everything but they had to be loyal to her. Margie and Barbara agreed. They knew Lena had a mysterious hold on everyone she knew and the two young women knew better than to get in her bad side.

Lena was excited to mold the teenagers into self-assured reps of her cosmetics brand. Over the next couple of weeks, she taught them how to get into the right mindset of poise and assertiveness. They followed her instructions and felt they were learning more important life skills than they had ever learned in school.

One day, after she was sure Margie and Barbara were strong enough to keep her confidential advice from people not in their tight little circle, Lena told them about the mystique that gave her the edge in her day-to-day interactions.

“People think it’s the cake,” she said. “I’m going to give you my recipe, but it’s not the cake.” She studied them to be sure they understood the importance of her words. Satisfied by their awestruck expression, she continued.

“You see, ladies, when people are comfortable and relaxed, they are more likely to tell you their secrets, more likely to give you gossip and information that might be useful to you in the future. This is a small town where everyone knows each other. Anything someone tells you can be important. Doing facials, putting on make-up, it makes people comfortable. It’s the experience, the scents, the one-on-one.

“But once they tell you something they regret saying, they need an excuse, so the element of the cake comes in. Everyone thinks I’m drugging it with truth serum or something. It’s a nice way out for people, instead of admitting they told a stranger something they weren’t supposed to say. If they ask you what was in the cake you need to be mysterious about it. It will give you the upper hand and that upper hand is all you need.”

Their alliance with Lena had been the greatest decision in their lives. When Margie and Barbara returned to school that fall, armed with professional cases of beauty supplies, they had the transformation they’d envisioned. It was not in make-up or popularity, but in the self-assurance that would help them long beyond high school. They also had a killer recipe for chocolate cake.