“Did you get settled in all right?” Candy asked.
“Yes, thank you. It’s a beautiful room.” I replied.
“I have been saving it for future grandkids, but so far that doesn’t look like it’s going to happen anytime soon.”
Andrew rolled his eyes. “Michael is dating somebody. Maybe he will marry this one.” He glanced around the room. “Where is that bastard anyways? He said he would be here.”
His mom swiped her brow with the back of her hand. “The snow delayed his flight, but he will be here soon.”
“All right, well Haven said she would go head to head on a cookie duel if you are still up for it,” Andrew said to his sister.
“Hell yeah I am! There is a new recipe I have been perfecting. My roommates at college were my taste testers but they got mad at me for making them fat.” She pouted. “They didn’t have to eat all the samples.”
Nerves twisted my stomach into knots. “Do we have to go into this blind? I haven’t memorized any recipes.”
Andrew’s mom spoke. “Of course not. Constance is an overachiever, always has been. That’s why she was the first in the family to get into an Ivy League college.”
“I’m standing right here,” Constance said.
“I know, pumpkin. We are so proud of you.” Candy smiled sweetly then glanced over at me. “Do you bake often, Haven?”
I shook my head. “No, but I’m an old pro at burning things.”
Andrew squeezed my shoulders. “She is being modest. There is a recipe she would love to bake everybody tomorrow morning.”
His family wouldn’t eat processed white bread with melted chocolate. They probably didn’t have white bread in the house. If I had to take a wild guess, their pantry was stocked with artisan ingredients and natural flours like almond or whole wheat.
“No there isn’t, it’s nothing.” I said quickly then proceeded to change the subject. “Would you like any help?”
Andrew’s mom and sister shared a look. Constance moved a couple inches to the right and threw an extra ball of dough on the marble slab.
“We will get your feet wet first with kneading. After dinner if you are up to it, we can have the bake-off,” Andrew’s mom said.
I pushed my sleeves to my elbows. “Sounds good.”
“Have fun, girls.” Andrew slipped back into the chaos without getting me a glass of cider first like he’d promised.
Guess I would have to do this conversing thing sober. I watched Constance’s hands fold the dough over onto itself, flip it around and repeat. Replicating her movements, a rhythm between us three was formed. A peacefulness settled over me as a white washed light slanted across the floors. Cinnamon and clove hung in the air and kids’ laughter floated in through the swinging kitchen door. If I closed my eyes, it almost felt like this could have been my life. The large family gatherings, inside jokes, and endless outpouring of love. An ache thrummed underneath my breastbone.
Andrew’s sister broke the tranquility. “How did you and Andrew meet?”
“We met at the coffee shop I was working at. He subdued an outraged customer before the man could strangle me.”
Candy gasped. “People these days are too wound up. Andrew taught me a few yoga moves and they have worked wonders for my stress.”
I couldn’t help but wonder if Camilla and Andrew’s mom practiced yoga together. For somebody who moved halfway across the world, Camilla was an unshakable presence.
“Mom, doing down dog, or whatever you call it won’t solve the world’s problems.” Andrew’s sister slapped the dough. “What we need to do is implement Europe’s take on life. Naps during the day and two months of vacation.”
“You already do that and you have three months of vacation,” Candy reminded her daughter.
“Whatever, Yale is hard.”
“It better be for the sixty thousand dollars I’m shelling out per year.”
Now it was my turn to gasp. Their heads swiveled toward me and I coughed. “Sorry, something was in my throat,” I lied.
Sixty thousand was enough for a down payment on a house. It was hard to imagine having that amount of money when I hardly had enough to eat growing up. Andrew’s sister shaped the dough into a loaf and set it into a pan. Brushing melted butter on top, she threw the pan into the scorching hot oven.
“I told Kescher I would call him at four. I’ll be back.” Whipping off her apron, she exited the kitchen.
“Kescher is her boyfriend,” Andrew’s mom explained. “We haven’t met him yet but Constance gushes about him. Young love, huh?”
I politely murmured my agreement. We shaped our loaves and set them in the oven to bake. Andrew’s mom fiddled with a timer, turning the dial to sixty minutes.
“We have some time to get to know each other.” Andrew’s mom gestured to the dining room table. “Sit, I’ll fix us a cup of apple cider.”
Seeing no choice in the matter, my butt plopped into a sea grass woven chair. The scratchy material rubbed against my legs. I felt as if I was about to get interrogated. Andrew’s mom handed me a mug and tipped a small amount of rum into the drink. Since getting drunk and spilling my guts wasn’t on my agenda, I managed my intake.
“So Haven, tell me a little about yourself. You said you work at a coffee shop?”
On second thought, I swallowed a mouthful of apple cider. “Yes, I worked at The Roasted Bean but the owner to close shop until further notice.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. What are doing in the mean time?”
Having wild monkey sex with your son wasn’t the appropriate answer even if it was the truth. Nonetheless whenever anybody asked that question, they were really searching for your motivation, aka what gets you up in the morning.
“I’m exploring my options,” I said.
Andrew’s mom peered at me as if she was waiting for additional information.
“I work at a nightclub part time, catering to drunk people. It’s not very glamorous.”
“Most jobs aren’t. When I was a nurse, all kind of substances would end up on me. Blood, feces, you name it.”
“That’s disgusting.”
“Yeah, but at the end of the day, you’re saving lives. That’s what counts.”
I blew on my drink. “I’m not saving lives. I’m getting people drunk.”
Candy’s musical laugh brought a smile to my face. I’m glad she wasn’t ashamed her son was dating a glorified waitress.
“Honey, you are bringing happiness and a good time. That counts as well,” she pointed out.
Candy’s candor made me want to spill my guts to her. I didn’t have a maternal figure to shove wisdom into my life anymore. Correction: I never did. My mom’s sage advice was to always bag it before you fuck it and that was the extent of her wisdom.
“Honestly I haven’t found my passion yet.” My eyes locked onto her hers, but there wasn’t any judgment, only kindness. I went on. “It seems like everybody is preaching about finding what you love and then doing that as a career but what if you never got that opportunity? Growing up, my mom didn’t shuttle me to ballet lessons or music lessons. I had to be the one to ensure I had a ride home once school let out. It was me against the world for twenty-three years and only now since Andrew has come into my life, my breathing has come easier. I finally broke the surface and can look around.” Candy handed me a napkin. Touching my cheeks, they were wet with tears. “Sorry, I’m not usually this emotional, especially with people I just met.”
“Don’t apologize. It sounds like you needed to get it off your chest.”
I fixed my makeup and dabbed away the smudged mascara underneath my lower lash line. “Yeah, guess so. Thanks for listening. Andrew is lucky to have you as a mom.”
“I’m lucky to have him as a son. He wasn’t easy as a teenager being a boy with raging hormones but I wasn’t worried about him. I always knew he would figure it out and I was right. You are two similar in that way.”