Vol. 7, Chapter XVI — Recipe for Romance

Normally, having five people inside the kitchen would be nigh impossible. Ours are a snuggling fest with just me and Violet, maybe even Sophie if we are at my apartment. Presently, however, that was no issue at all as we were at Claire’s place. It was located at the more modern, more affluent part of town. My old place was more central, historical part—if you want to leave aside the palace homes and mansions on the hills like Mrs Fletcher’s, that is—and quite the valuable property, but this one? If mine could pay up for three of Violet’s modest abodes, this one likely paid up for at least five or seven.

I still prefer ours though. Much more cosier. Violet too, most likely, even though she was clearly taken aback at the luxury and modernity of the place. It’s not that it was cold everywhere, quite the contrary. Claire and her Mum had very purposefully left the parts of the house guests would see in that almost clinical, almost cold, modern minimalism, but the spaces reserved for the family? Those told a different story. Those felt warm, inviting and alive. Pictures, baubles and souvenirs from trips, colourful furniture, patterned rugs, curtains too, you name it.

But back to the kitchen, that one was the space I was enjoying the most, and the one awakening jealousy on Violet. With white marble for the counters, white tiles for the walls and floor, but then, the furniture was in this charcoal black, the handles in a polished golden bronze or brass. The sink too had the faucet in that same metal. A big stove with a large built in oven, a large fridge, a cabinet exclusively made to store the wine, and now, funnily enough, Mathilda’s popcorn machine, the red and white stripes of the metal box, and the glass case with polished metal inside it being the one thing out of place. There was plenty of natural light, but since this was in the afternoon after us younger ones were done with classes, we had to turn on the three in-line ceiling lamps that hang above our heads, also black and golden, emitting a light that was white, but not harsh. The whole place smelled like a bakery, chocolate and sugar and flour creating a harmonious scent that made my belly rumble.

“Wouldn’t it be faster to heat the chocolate directly over the burners?” Claire asked as she loomed over Violet’s shoulders. I stood by Violet, her doing the stirring while I added the chocolate and the butter as she requested them, me standing on a wooden wine box to work comfortably on the counter. We were melting it in bain marie, or a water boiler, if you want to be less fancy about it, which was what had caught Claire’s attention.

“Chocolate is a delicate thing, so you do it like this to avoid it getting burned,” Violet explained to her, calmly stirring. “Doing it like this uses steam to heat the bowl, so won’t go over the boiling point of water.”

Claire let out an exaggerated “oh” as she looked at my sister and asked her if she knew about it. Sis told her she didn’t before asking for the hundredth time why she was even there with the rest of us, since she was the only one who was single.

Claire acted offended, pointing at herself and asking if Sophie had zero intentions on giving her anything for Valentine’s Day. Sis barked at her, saying that the two already made plans to watch sappy movies and eat chocolate until Paul was free from classes and she could have a videocall date with him, and asked why Claire was complaining about it. And not wanting to entertain Claire, she shifted the conversation to me and my wifey, asking what the point of us doing the chocolates together was.

“For one, we are baking brownies,” I told her, as if that changed much. “Second of all, there’s a thing called ‘couple-bonding time’ me and Violet practice. Just doing something together like these counts, so there’s that. Lastly, we act pretty much as if everyday is Valentine’s Day, so why are you even surprised we are doing this together?”

Violet nodded along as I spoke, staying mostly focused on the task as she wasn’t blushing that much from me saying the last part and her mindlessly agreeing with the statement.

“And I wanted to try giving my boyfriend something homemade, if just even once,” Mathilda added, clearly wanting to share her side of the matter. “I’ve seen shows and movies showing high schoolers like us doing it so many times that I just had to try it.”

“And I want to show mine that I can actually cook something,” Claire chirped, although quite frankly, she has mostly been eating the ingredients. I had no idea what she was planning on doing, and I don’t think she had any idea either. Maybe just watch and decide later? “As for you… Daddy Stan would—”

“Don’t call him that!” both Sophie and Violet shouted at Claire.

“My, what a bunch of prudes,” Claire giggled with a bounce, making her chest shake undoubtedly on purpose. “Fine, have it your way. Stan would likely be all melty over you giving him something.”

“Like I’d do something that obvious!”

We all looked at her, thinking the same thing: that ship set sail a long time ago now, specially ever since the smooch incident.

I also told her not to be dumb. She could bake something for our Dad too, just like me and Violet were doing, and give it to him and Stan. She could just add an extra one to Stan that was more special.

“Exactly! Like… like a heart-shaped brownie covered in white chocolate!” Claire told her.

Sophie asked, scandalized, why she’d do that. Claire told her that it was so it popped to attention amidst the rest of the brownies, and in white chocolate to represent her pure sweet love on the outside, and its intense passion on the inside.

“…What? Why is everyone looking at me like that?” she asked smugly, popping her chest up, knowing very well why: she had just said something that actually was a great idea.

“A broken clock can still tell the time twice a day, they say,” Sophie said as our answer. “But does he even like white chocolate?”

“Hmm… I’m actually not too sure about it myself,” Violet hummed as she passed me the bowl as it was now my turn to do something more laborious while she mostly just watched. “But I guess it will even out with the brownie on the inside if we use at least some darker chocolate or cocoa powder for the dough.”

“Yeah, like bombón coffee,” I said.

No one knew what that was, so I explained that it was equal parts espresso coffee and condensed milk, layered. Violet and I tried it at a café not long ago, and I got hooked. I also told them I was forbidden to have it too many times by my wife, as she told me I wouldn’t shut up nor stay put after having so much sugar and coffee in one go for over an hour before completely crashing down and drooling all over her lap.

“Ah! So that’s why Violet looked dead inside a few days ago while you peacefully napped on her lap. Erm, Violet? I know it might be weird asking, but—”

“I’ll teach you brownies, yes,” Violet told her before Sophie even had the chance of finishing her sentence. “Do you want to join us and bake some on your own later, or do you want to start completely from scratch?”

My sister accepted the first offer, stepping in closer to us to look and get some hands-on experience for her later attempt.

Claire didn’t lose a second to tease my wife and sister, saying that Sophie really had a nice future stepdaughter. The two turned red, Sophie telling Claire to shut up, but she couldn’t deny it, as that was essentially what they were at this point, at least if things keep on the trail they seem to be headed. As positive as I was about my sister pursuing her heart, even for me, it felt a bit weird hearing their relationship put in that way, as accurate as it might be.

“Wait, so, you just coat the inside of the shape, cool it, fill it, cool it again and then apply a final coat of chocolate for the base?” Claire gasped, seeing that Mathilda was already doing the final layer for her little, strawberry-filled, hearts. Mathilda was very smug about it and told Claire was oversimplifying things, but Claire still showered her with compliments and asked Mathilda to teach her as she won’t be able to screw up doing them and then show off to Paul.

“You could also learn to cook a little, you know?” Mathilda told her. “With how often you are at Sophie’s, you could have her teach you, or even Violet. Or, well, I live here now, so I—”

“Yes, yes, I’ll learn with you. Now, I need to heat the chocolate with the bowl-thing over the pot with boiling water, yes?” Claire interrupted, her voice barely audible over the clattering of metal she was doing as she got ready for her turn.

Looking now at my sister and wife, the two were talking about the process of making the dough and how could they later coat the cakes in chocolate once they cool off. That was way sweeter than anything any of us were baking, that’s to be sure.

“I can’t believe I actually did this…” sis bemoaned as her face turned red. In front of her and for us all to admire, was the thing Claire had come up with before. It had to receive a second coating of white chocolate, but it turned out really, and I do mean it, really good. “I actually got carried away in the mood…”

“of course you did,” I giggled as I hugged her waist. “We are sisters after all.”

“We are, aren’t we?” she still whined as she rubbed and patted my head and shoulder. “Still… it did come out good… Thank you so much for your help, Violet.”

“You’re welcome,” Violet told her, staring at the little coated cake with her grow furrowed. “Hmm… I wonder… will it last longer fresh because it is coated in chocolate?”

And speaking of that, Sophie asked what we were supposed to do with all the leftovers from cutting the brownies into shape, saying that it was a waste to throw them away.

We explained her that we’d either keep the leftover bits to dry them up and use as a cake decoration after grounding them, or make a cake pudding with them by just adding some milk, an egg, and some sugar before baking it again. The others were shocked about how we could make cakes with other cakes. Once we told them that it’s a great way to give a new life to cakes and cookies that had gone stale and cut costs, they teased us about always being so frugal, specially since we didn’t really need to be. Aside from Violet’s peace of mind since that was how she was raised and lived all her life, I’d rather us stay like this and save our money as much as we can for our future projects, trips, and anything else that might come along. Call me privileged if you want, but I enjoyed the lifestyle. And, as someone who had the “privilege” of having expensive stuff, let me tell you this: there’s a point where, paying more, will return you less. It’s basic Pareto’s Principal, really, twenty per cent you put in something returns eighty per cent of the results. In simpler words, sure, paying more might get you nicer stuff, but there comes a point that you’re just tossing money away for very diminishing returns.

“Did we learn that in school?” Violet asked, now frowning at me as she searched her memory for where she had heard that before.

“Nope, this is from my previous life,” I told her.

Kinda funny if you think about it. Mum always expected for me and Sophie to give our all in anything we did, but she also made sure to drive that principle into our skulls. Sophie did the all-in and I did the twenty per cent thing anytime I could, so both of us only learned half the lesson.

“Here, my lovelies!” Claire cheered as she pushed into us tiny bags she carefully prepared and decorated, the chocolates she did with Mathy inside them. “I know Valentine’s only tomorrow, but I want you to have them now that they are fresh!”

After we took them, she kissed and hugged each of us, thanking each one for a thing or another. Me for being so cute and sweet and helping Sophie whenever I could, Violet for being the mother of the group and also helping Sophie out when she couldn’t. With Sophie, she was extra affectionate, giving her two kisses and, for a second there, almost giving sis a third on the lips using only the apron Sophie had as a barrier. Luckily, she remembered the scolding she got on their first New Year together as friends, so as soon as she covered Sophie’s lips with the apron and was just about to lean in, she stopped herself. She still gave sis a bit of a fright though. She thanked my sister for being “her woman” and keeping her in line but also playing along many times when she clearly would prefer peace and quiet. She was also very affectionate with Mathilda, hugging and smooching her all over her face, calling her cute and the best little sister she could ask for.

“Claire, stop it!” a laughing voice called out. Walking unhurriedly inside the kitchen in silk PJs in a shade of green that was just beautiful was Claire’s Mum, Miss Aria. She looked more like Claire’s older sister than anything else. “You’re smothering your sister, the poor thing.”

“Mum!” Claire cheered, rushing to hug her. There was a dull thud as their bodies met into a tight hug, each giving the other a big kiss on the cheek. “I’ve got a Valentine’s gift for you!”

“Oh, do you know?” her mum laughed, a laugh that was unknown to me as it was open and warm, not measured as I was familiar with. “Introduce me to your friends first, however. My, it’s been a couple of years since last I saw you, Abigail! You haven’t changed one bit. And the one with the glasses is Violet, right? My, she really looks like a model! Totally snackable in that apron and bun too!”

Violet flinched a bit while I could barely hold a laugh. This version of Aria was like none I had seen before, and I was loving it. She appeared to be like Claire, but more composed.

“T-thank you, ma’am!” Violet stuttered, defaulting to her waitress speech pattern that I hadn’t heard in years. “Y-you look quite young! I’d say you’re Claire’s sister if I didn’t know better!”

Aria gave a delighted little laugh as she held Claire’s gift with one hand, and her face with the other. Shamelessly, she bragged about how much she and Claire get confused as sisters when going somewhere.

“Then again, it’s not all that surprising since I’m just turning thirty-eight this year.”

Hearing this, my eyes widened a bit and my breath got caught in my throat while Violet completely seized up. Sis stayed neutral, so I guess she was already aware of it. You see, Claire was turning twenty-one this year, so… maybe her Mum had a wild past like Claire after all, she just wasn’t as “lucky” as Claire, as in, she got an early pregnancy. Not that she looked any bit regretful of having Claire, so maybe it was one of those “regretful of the mistake, but not of what came from it” kind of deal.

“Oh, that’s a secret, by the way,” she told us with a wink after receiving a second bag from Mathilda this time and giving her now… I guess adopted daughter, a kiss on the head. “If anyone asks, I’m turning forty, hmm? I don’t want people to think poorly of Claire, and now Mathilda here. My ex-husband didn’t really know how to keep it inside his pants, nor I to keep mine on, but I got my current life, my daughter, and now also Mathilda, out of that rotten deal, so I’m grateful in a way and wish to protect them from what others might think of them because I was young and very, very dumb.”

And there it was, that strength I had seen many times before in dinners and events, but here, it was kind, it was gentle.

A woman who picked the wrong guy, made wrong choices, faced the consequences for it, but chose to stay positive about it instead of growing bitter and resentful. Both showed a very similar façade in front of people outside their homes, but she really was the polar opposite of what my Mum is. Or was, if my ex-therapist is to be believed.

I watched her talk happily with Claire and Mathilda, one in each of her arms, making plans for the rest of their day, and I felt… awfully envious. I had grown forgetful of that feeling after experiencing so much joy with Violet, so it really was leaving a terrible taste in my mouth. Looking at Violet, she too was feeling a dark cloud hanging over her, even though hers was more based on longing for something she lost and couldn’t fully remember. I guess I was too, only, I was longing for something I never had in the first place.

Then, a hand rested on our shoulders. Sophie was pulling us in, looking at us with a warm smile, asking if we thought it was about time we leave. I saw Violet lean into her, completely oblivious to the fact, as she said that we should, as it was getting late and her Dad was making dinner for everyone.

We did a quick clean, one washing, one drying with a cloth, another putting the things away while the other two cleaned up the surfaces, making short work of the mess with did, Aria watching with a glass of red wine and already having some of her chocolates, joking that not even a professional kitchen was that efficient.

After that, we bid farewell to our friends and set off in my Dad’s car back home. Violet and I sat close, leaning on each other and holding hands with interlocked fingers. We were still feeling a little bit blue from seeing the other three, but the worst of it had worn off.

“You girls are doing ok back there?” sis asked, glancing at us through the mirror.

“Yeah, it’s just… It’s really nice that Mathy has such a loving family now, even though she’s almost an adult at this point.”

“We really did pull the short straw on that one, didn’t we?” Sophie said. “Us three, I mean, about our mothers.”

The ride then got quiet, save for the sound of traffic, the engine, and the AC. Sis was glancing at her little bags with the brownies, three each, heart-shaped, one having that special fourth one on top of the rest. It was getting me curious about what was going on in her mind. When she started glancing at Violet through the mirror, I got really interested, almost completely forgetting how I was feeling before.

Once we parked in front of Violet’s place, it all became clear.

“Violet, if I may?” Sophie asked softly, turning around in her seat to look directly at my wifey.

“…Yes?” Violet said, still a bit hazy since, unlike me, she had zoned out and stayed in her mind, marinating in her thoughts.

“I just want to say… About the thing you told me the other time, I thought about it and… when I was staring at the white-coated brownie, I made the decision of stop running away over how I feel. I know we had a similar talk before, but I feel like this time is for real. No matter what happens… thank you for telling me that.”

“…Erm t-thanks, I guess, but erm…” Violet paused and glanced at me before looking back at Sophie. “What exactly did I tell you and when was it?”

“Erm… the day after you came from the photoshoot?” my sister told her, starting to realise that Violet still had no memory of that. “You said that your Dad once told you to never say sorry to anyone for falling in love with someone.”

Violet’s shoulders moved, just like all her blood, towards her face. She looked at me, super stiff, as if asking why I hadn’t told her about it and now understanding why I was so giddy the whole week after that.

She mumbled adorably something that I had to translate to Sophie.

“She says that she is happy she could help you,” was what my wifey had tried to tell my sister.

We got off the car after that, Violet clinging to me due to the cold air and shame she was feeling.

We were immediately met at the door by Oliver, who meowed at us as if demanding to know where we had been and why weren’t we petting him as compensation.

Papa Stan popped in soon after, almost bumping into us.

After a brief greeting, I watched as Sophie stepped up to him and handed him one of the brownie bags.

“Me and the girls did this for Valentine’s and—”

Violet and I called out to her, saying in unison that she had given him the wrong bag.

Sophie immediately corrected the mistake, the comedy of it seemingly having loosened her tongue.

“We did some things for Valentine’s Day, so I’d like for you to have these.”

The corners of Papa Stan’s mouth twitched a bit. He most likely didn’t expect anything like this, nor remembered that tomorrow was Valentine’s, so receiving a gift was surprising to say the least. It also seemed to be making him very happy. Personally, he’d be happy no matter who was doing the gifting, but with it being Sophie, there was a also a bit of conflict in him.

“Thank you,” he told her with a chuckle, starting to go a bit red, just as she was. “I’m really happy that you thought of me but… shouldn’t your Dad perhaps have this one?” he asked, pointing at the white heart inside his bag.

This was it, the time for my sister to stay true to her words, or to fold like a house of cards under a breeze.

“…I’d really like for you to have that one,” she told him, her voice shaking a bit.

She stood her ground, and I couldn’t help doing a little bounce, disguising it as me pestering Violet to come sit on the couch under a blanket with Oliver, whom Violet was the one holding this time around.

With that answer sis gave him, Stan accepted it, promising to give her something back tomorrow. My sister told him that wasn’t necessary at all, now being her turn to mumble while he was the more fluent one. It was a cute argument to have, one that she lost once I told Stan a little lie.

“Actually, sis wants to go try out that bombón coffee that’s all the rage now,” I said, Stan looking at me while Sophie glared daggers for giving him ammunition against her. “Violet and I already have plans for the day, so you two might as well go for it.”

Stan obviously had no idea about what I was talking, but Sophie explained to her, now me being the one doing the glaring, silently telling her to stop fumbling the ball and score a major goal. Which she did, once he showed interest in it himself.

Once he went back to the kitchen to finish up dinner, Sophie came to sit with us, Violet pulling some of the blanket loose so Sophie could join in the pile.

“Erm… now that I think of it…” Sophie whispered to us while rubbing Oliver’s head. “isn’t… isn’t it a bit childish for a twenty-three-year-old woman to be giving chocolates to the guy she likes?”

Violet and I looked at her, thinking the exact same thing, but I was the one doing the talking.

“Sis, shut up,” I sighed. “He was happy, wasn’t he?”

Sis shuffled on her seat, fighting a smile and going super red all over again. Cute, but incredibly annoying.

And she dares calling me and my wifey annoying. Gee!