Feeling her lightly trace my fingers, while holding my hand and talking to me in that quiet, soothing voice, especially after I just spent at least an hour being held by her with my head resting on her chest, had an effect on me I had not expected. I actually felt close to her for a change! Thinking about how the night played out made me reevaluate my opinion of her. And, if I were honest with myself, the worst thing I could accuse her of was her being a shitty psychologist.
Yes, she didn’t want me as part of their little orgies, and lost sight of our familial bonds like the others. But contrary to the others, she was ‘just’ my aunt, and out of all of them showed the most concern for me, and had tried to talk to me for a year now. While my parents and siblings were perfectly happy with losing me completely, she showed up at work to watch my training sessions, and persistently tried to mend our relationship. And what happened during the three hours before, felt like she genuinely cared and wanted to help. I was still not sure if it was wise to risk it, but I took her hand and kissed her cheek like she did mine.
“Thanks.” I said, before moving towards the kitchen, noting the big bright smile on her face.
I looked around for the pizzas I asked them to order the evening before, but couldn’t find any. Either they, like so many times before, got rid of the leftovers before I had a chance to get some, or they hadn’t ordered any in the first place. Their appetite was possibly just as low as mine was in the evening. Instead, I noticed the emoji-pan someone had washed and left to dry next to the sink. I looked at it for a few seconds before deciding to try it.
I got a few eggs out of the fridge and had just separated them when Danielle walked into the kitchen. After the family moved out of the house, I had moved my coffee maker into the kitchen, and she was now eyeing the assortment of capsules available. By the time she had decided on one, I was mixing the egg yolks with milk and flour. She noticed the egg white in a separate bowl.
“What are you making?”
“Pancakes.” I just said, continuing on and ignoring her skeptical gaze.
I mixed the egg white with vanilla sugar and a tablespoon of egg white powder, causing her to perk up yet again.
“Are you sure you’re making Pancakes?”
“Very sure.” I insisted.
“Well, you seem to know your way around the kitchen. So, if this tastes horrible despite this confident display of yours, I’m gonna make fun of you!” she grinned.
Whipping the egg white mix stiff took quite a while. Long enough for Ava and Maggie to enter the kitchen and sit next to Danielle.
“He cooks?” I heard Maggie ask her mother.
“He claims he does.” Danielle answered, laughing when I shot her a look.
I carefully folded the egg yolk mixture into the stiff egg white, and filled the produced batter into the slots of the emoji-pan. I had bought the thing on a whim I could not explain myself, and I was absolutely expecting it to be crap, but it worked! The pancakes actually showed the faces on them.
After the first batch was done, I placed one on a plate for each of my skeptical spectators, surrounded them with raspberries, strawberries and whipped cream I got from the fridge, and dusted them all with a tiny amount of confectioner’s sugar before presenting it to them. I personally didn’t care about the raspberries, nor the extra kind of sugar, but after their taunting, I thought it should look as good as I knew it would taste.
“Holy!” I heard from Ava, followed by an “Mmmhmm!” from Maggie, after their first taste.
“These are great, Tim!” Danielle said with big eyes, after she tried them as well.
“See? Never doubt my skills again!” I said, pointing the spatula at her, and getting to work on the next batch to use up the batter I had produced.
“Is that the only thing you can make, or is there more I need to try?” she asked, grinning after hearing my assurance that I indeed knew more than pancake recipes. “When did you learn to cook like this?”
“It’s been more than two years since the last time Claire cooked anything for me. And even on the rare occasions when she accidentally made enough for all of us, I’d come home to find the leftovers in the trash can. So, I could either learn to cook, or turn into a fruitarian.” I answered matter of fact, causing Maggie and Danielle to stop chewing before regarding Ava and me with uncomfortable looks. “What? Did you think I was kidding when I told you all on Thanksgiving that I’ve had to buy my own groceries?”
Initially this caused the general mood in the kitchen to drop significantly. But I just kept telling them how much fun cooking had turned out to be, while I decorated the table with the different kinds of fruits and berries I bought the day before, as well as whipped cream, butter, syrup, and nutella. We could enjoy the pancakes however each of us wanted.
