Chapter 8 #2
“Will we be in your way if we make cocoa?” I ask my dad when we enter the kitchen.
He uses a fork to extract individual almonds from his melted chocolate mixture, and then, one by one, carefully places them on a parchment-covered cookie sheet. “Not at all. And I wouldn’t say no to a cup of cocoa, if you make enough.”
“Which one should we try first?” I ask them, going over my list. “Peppermint, chai, or Earl Grey?”
“Let’s try the peppermint,” Nadine says. “It sounds the easiest. How do we do it?”
“I’ve been thinking about that. The tea won’t infuse well if we put it directly into the milk. I think we should go about it like a tea latte. Steep the tea in a little hot water, making it highly concentrated, then stir it into the finished hot chocolate.”
“Let’s give it a try.” Nadine pulls out a large saucepan, knowing exactly where they are because she and my mother moved everything.
“You guys are going to have to give me a tour of my kitchen,” I joke.
Mom wanders in to see what we’re doing, holding her crochet. “Your cabinets were practically bare. What have you been eating?”
“Oh, you know. Ramen noodles, macaroni and cheese, frozen stuff…”
This shouldn’t come as a surprise. They all know cooking isn’t my forte.
“I need to go shopping tomorrow,” Mom says. “I scraped together enough to make banana muffins, but I’ve been craving blueberry bread.”
I grin. “I really like having you here.”
“So I just do my shopping like normal, and then someone will deliver it all to me?” she asks, confirming what we talked about earlier.
“Or you can make an online order through the app…” I tease gently, knowing how she and my father feel about online shopping. Like many fae of their generation, they’re opposed to certain technology.
She glares at her new cell phone, which she’s left on the counter. Dad bought it for her after I left, convincing her she’d need a way to talk to me more often. She’s even texted a few times.
But she hates it.
“What do I have to do?” she asks, nudging the device my way.
“We just need to download the app from the store.”
“Do I have to pay for it with that clickbait stuff?”
“I think you mean cryptocurrency,” I laugh. “And no, the app is free. But you will have to pay for your groceries.”
“Cryptocurrency sounds evil,” Dad says. “I swear a leprechaun is behind it.”
I can’t argue that.
While I show Mom how to download apps, Dad grumbles about the evils of the modern world. “Why can’t people go to the stores these days? Everyone is in such a hurry, they can’t even pick out their own produce. And why? What do they do in their free time? Sit at home and stare at their screens.”
Mom pulls the phone from my hand. “I want to pick out my produce. You know how particular I am.”
“I do. Why don’t you take the bike down there? They’ll help you get your purchases home. All the people who work there are really nice, and they have delivery systems.”
“I’ll try it,” she says, though she’s nervous about new places, and this whole trip to Vermont is pushing her out of her comfort zone.
“Do you want some cocoa?” I ask her.
Mom eyes my ingredients. “Are you putting tea in it?”
“Just peppermint. I’m tweaking your recipe.”
“Peppermint sounds all right,” she says hesitantly. “I’ll try it.”
I set the cocoa, sugar, and milk mixture to warm on the stove while I prepare the tea concentrate.
When the hot chocolate is steaming, I pull it off the heat, add the peppermint tea, and then pour it into the mugs Nadine pulled out of the cupboard.
“Do we have any whipped cream?” Mom asks.
“I ran out the other day.”
“What about whipping cream?” She pokes her head into the fridge. “We could make some.”
“I definitely haven’t been over here making homemade whipped cream,” I laugh.
“That’s okay.” She accepts the mug I hand her and gives it a sniff. “It smells good.”
“It’s just peppermint, like the dried herb. Nothing weird, I promise.”
“Oh, that’s really wonderful,” Nadine says after she takes her first sip. “The peppermint isn’t very strong.”
“Could be stronger,” Dad says, nodding. “But it’s very pleasant.”
“The chocolate probably masks some of the flavor,” I say. “I should add a little more next time.”
Mom takes a tentative sip. “You don’t want it to taste like toothpaste, though.”
“Do they make chocolate mint toothpaste?” Nadine asks. “Because I would be willing to try that.”
I wrinkle my nose at the thought. “No.”
Nadine laughs, and we all sip our hot chocolate companionably. The only thing that could make it better would be if Rowan were here too, especially now that he and Dad have come to an understanding.
My mind wanders down a trail I don’t want to travel. Did Rowan ever hang out in the bed-and-breakfast kitchen with Keira and her family, sharing moments like this? What did his life look like before he became an owl? The day he became an owl?
The thought is so unsettling; I want to push it away. But Rowan already said he wasn’t in love with Keira. So why do I feel uneasy, like I’ve stolen something that doesn’t belong to me?
“Are you okay?” Nadine asks quietly.
Realizing I got lost in my thoughts, I yank my eyes from the steam rising from my cup. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
She gives me a quizzical look and then tells me about the scarlet tanager she made friends with earlier today.
I try to listen. I smile where I’m supposed to smile and laugh where I’m supposed to laugh, but my mind continually wanders to the man who’s only mine because a strange chain of events brought us together.
An uneasy thought keeps plaguing me: Did Rowan actually love me before our magic got involved, or are his memories skewed thanks to our bond? And after he breaks it, will he still choose me, or will he decide to go back to his life that got interrupted?
They’re irrational worries—I know that. A product of anxiety. But if we don’t sever the bond, we’ll never really know.