Chapter 18
Olga opens her eyes drowsily, awakened by what sounded like a noise, but she's too sleepy to make sense of it. Violeta is snuggled against her body, both naked under the comforter. Olga doesn't know what time they fell asleep, but she's so exhausted that she decides it must still be very early. She closes her eyes again, hoping to stay under the sheets a bit longer.
The knocks repeat, louder this time, and her eyes snap open. Now they shine like beacons and her heart races like a wild horse in her chest. Violeta has also woken up, and three more knocks confirm they are real and not part of a dream.
"Shit, someone's at the door," Olga says, pushing back the comforter to get up. "What time is it?" she asks as she switches on the bedside lamp.
Violeta grabs her phone, her face falling as she realizes they overslept.
"Fuck, Olga, it must be my mom knocking. I have two missed calls from her."
"Get dressed and keep quiet," Olga instructs, throwing on a robe to go answer the door.
Olga runs her fingers through her hair as she crosses the living room to the door.
"Hi, Maite, what's going on?" she asks, playing dumb.
"Violeta's not at home," Maite blurts out, as frightened as a mother who's lost one of her cubs.
"What?"
Olga steps aside to let her in, shutting the door behind them.
"I woke up and went to get her like I do every morning when breakfast is ready, but she wasn't in her room. I searched the whole house and she's nowhere. I tried calling her cell but she's not picking up," Maite says, growing more distraught.
"She must be at the bakery," Olga tries to reassure her, raising her voice a couple notches.
It's the first thing that popped into her head and she wants to make sure Violeta hears it so their stories match.
"The bakery?" Maite repeats, thrown off.
"Yeah, she mentioned yesterday that she wanted to go in early to try making a recipe for anise cookies that a friend gave her."
"Violeta making cookies? But she's never shown interest in learning my recipes. When she lived here, I tried teaching her but it was hopeless. I even gave her a notebook where I wrote down recipes I came up with for us to make together, but I finally gave up."
"Well, I don't know, that's what she told me," Olga responds, trying not to show her nervousness.
Violeta is dressed, stiff as a board by the bedroom door, listening in horror to the alibi Olga just gave her.
"I don't know, I'm really worried," Maite says. "Would it have killed her to let me know?"
"She probably didn't want to wake you. If you wait five minutes, I'll get dressed and we can go to the bakery together. You'll see, she'll be there."
"Alright. That daughter of mine is going to get an earful when I see her," Maite grumbles, very agitated.
Olga leaves her in the living room and hurries to the bedroom, shutting the door as soon as she enters.
"Why did you tell her that?" Violeta hisses. "I have no idea how to make anise cookies."
"Well, you'll learn. And you better run," Olga points to the window.
"You want me to go out that way?"
"You sure snuck out your window yesterday for a quick lay, didn't you?" Olga whispers.
Violeta smiles and they share a kiss on the lips that turns into a series of repeated pecks.
"Go on, I can't stall your mom for long. By the time we get there, she needs to see you doing something. Besides, the poor thing is worried sick," Olga says, feeling guilty.
"Where am I supposed to get a recipe from?"
"You'll figure something out." Olga gives her a pat on the butt and opens the window.
She helps Violeta out safely and they share another kiss.
"Be careful not to slip on the snow," Olga warns.
Violeta nods and ducks down to sneak along the side of the house so Maite doesn't spot her from the living room window. Olga gets dressed in a rush, knowing she needs to give Violeta time, but she feels so bad for her friend that she doesn't want to prolong her distress either. She washes her face and hands, brushes her hair before pulling it back quickly, and heads out to the living room.
"Here, I made you some coffee," Maite says from the kitchen doorway.
Olga is grateful; it's part of her routine and if she leaves without drinking it, she won't feel right until she does. As she sips it, Maite's phone pings with a message. Reading it, she lets out a huff.
"Well, look who it is," she says, showing the screen to Olga. "You were right, now she's seen the missed calls and texted me back, the little rascal. Says she's at the bakery."
Olga bites her lip and sighs with relief. She hadn't thought of that and is glad Violeta put her mom's worries to rest.
"Do you mind if I make some toast before we go then?"
When Olga and Maite arrive at the bakery twenty minutes later, Violeta is in the kitchen. She's whisked some eggs in a bowl and is mixing them with flour, oil and yeast. She also grated some lemon zest and added a splash of anise, all after making a desperate call to her friend Teresa begging for the recipe for the anise cookies she remembered Teresa bringing for her birthday.
"What were you thinking, leaving without telling me? Do you know how worried I was?" Maite bursts out as soon as they walk in.
"I'm sorry, Mom, I woke up really early and couldn't fall back asleep, so..."
Violeta keeps stirring the dough, which is gradually thickening. Olga watches in amusement from the doorway, arms crossed with a smile that Violeta catches when she glances at her sideways.
"Anise cookies?" her mother sniffs.
"Yeah," Violeta hesitates.
"Since when do you make cookies?"
"I never have, but I was telling Olga yesterday how my coworker brought some in for her birthday and they were really good." She sneaks another quick look at Olga, who shakes her head with narrowed eyes in an endearing gesture that makes Violeta melt. "And I got a craving, so I decided to try making them," she finishes in a rush.
Maite accepts the excuse and nods.
"Okay, but next time leave me a note. That dough needs a bit more flour," she points. "And put on an apron so you don't make a mess of yourself."
"Yes, Mom," Violeta responds in a mock military tone.
Olga takes the opportunity, while Maite has stepped out to talk to Antonio, to hurry over to Violeta.
"Looks like you're playing pastry chef today," she says with a wink before eyeing the dough. "See you at my place this afternoon?"
"Yeah," Violeta laughs, making a face. "This is your fault, you should be the one stuck doing this."
"But you look adorable." Olga blows her a kiss and walks out the door to start helping customers in the shop.