64. Sweetness #2
Rithy beams. Mrs. Chhim circles the island, admiring every side. Kiri finds the candles before she can ask how much it cost again. Rithy bought two gold number candles for the occasion, and Kiri pushes the six and five into the center of the cake while Mrs. Chhim watches with open disbelief.
“Sixty-five,” she says.
Her hand rises to her throat.
“I can't believe.”
“You don't look a day over thirty-five,” I tell her.
Kiri lights the candles. Their flames reflect in her eyes as we gather around the island and sing to her.
Kiri’s voice drops into that deeper register he rarely uses but his voice is actually nicer than he'd ever admit.
Rithy harmonizes automatically, because even happy birthday becomes a full performance when musicians are involved.
Mrs. Chhim joins them, laughing through tears.
“Make a wish,” I tell her.
“I have everything today.”
Mrs. Chhim leans forward and blows out the candles while we cheer loudly enough to annoy the neighbors.
“Sixty-five,” she says again as Kiri pulls the candles free. “How do I become so old?”
Rithy grabs the knife.
“Dad’s eighty-seven. He should’ve been dead years ago, but apparently spite is an excellent preservative.”
Kiri snorts before adding, “That and whatever demon he sold his soul to.”
Ma’s smile disappears.
“Don't talk about James this way.”
Rithy’s hand stills over the cake. Kiri looks toward the counter. The warmth in the room dips, not gone but bruised.
“He is still your father,” Ma says.
Rithy’s mouth tightens.
“Unfortunately.”
“Rithy.”
“Fine.”
He raises both hands in surrender, then gestures toward the cake. Rithy cuts the first piece for her. Mrs. Chhim takes one bite and closes her eyes.
“Oh.”
Rithy leans across the island.
“Well?”
She chews slowly, making him suffer.
“Very good.”
Kiri takes the knife from him before he can butcher the next slice. He cuts three more pieces with surprising precision and slides one toward me. I barely have time to pick up my fork before Mrs. Chhim reaches into the frosting with one finger. Rithy sees it first.
“No.”
She smiles.
“Nose.”
“Ma. We’re grown men.”
“It is my birthday.”
Kiri sighs beside me with the defeated patience of someone who has fought this battle every year of his life. Rithy points at him.
“You first, golden boy.”
Kiri leans forward. Mrs. Chhim presses a neat dot of frosting onto the tip of his nose. His eyes close.
“Happy?”
“Almost.”
Then she turns to Rithy. He tries to dodge playfully, but she catches his chin and smears a larger dot across his nose. She lifts one frosting-covered finger toward me. I instinctively lean back. Kiri looks at me.
“She’ll chase you. Might as well surrender,” he says, wiping his own dot off with a napkin.
Mrs. Chhim nods seriously. Rithy wipes frosting from his nose with his thumb.
“She’s fast.”
I glance at Kiri.
“What's this?”
His expression softens.
“Ma always said it keeps sweetness in your life.”
She points at him.
“My grandmother.”
Kiri nods.
“When Ma was little, her grandmother used to make num kom. Sticky rice dumplings with coconut and palm sugar inside.”
Ma smiles at the memory.
“She open one, take sweet coconut on her finger.” She lifts the frosting again. “Put on our noses. So sweetness becomes part of you.” She taps her own nose.
Something squeezes gently inside my chest. Behind the playful demand, I can see the memory of a different kitchen. Her grandmother’s hands. A childhood that existed before everything she lost. I lean forward. Mrs. Chhim carefully places a dot of frosting on the tip of my nose.
“There,” she says. “Now the sweetness stays.”
Kiri turns toward me. His gaze drops to the frosting on my nose, and the corner of his mouth lifts.
He bends before I realize what he’s doing.
His mouth brushes the tip of my nose. The frosting disappears beneath the soft press of his lips.
He draws back just enough to look at me, eyes darker than they were a second ago. Then he kisses my mouth.
It’s brief. Reserved enough for his mother’s kitchen. One controlled press that shouldn’t do anything after everything we’ve done together this month.
My body disagrees. Heat unfurls low in my stomach as his hand settles at my waist. There’s nothing obscene in the kiss itself, but I can feel everything beneath it.
Every hour we’ve spent learning each other.
Every time a touch became another one and another until morning found us somewhere we hadn’t meant to fall asleep.
We’ve almost forgotten what it feels like not to have each other whenever we want.
The look in his eyes promises he remembers exactly how long we'll have to wait before we’re alone again.
Rithy makes a loud gagging sound. Kiri pulls back without taking his hand from my waist.
“Grow up.”
“I’m trying to eat.”
Mrs. Chhim sighs dreamily.
“Leave them alone.”
Rithy stares at her.
“You’re encouraging this right here, in your kitchen?”
“She makes him smile.”
His expression softens before he can stop it. Then he looks at Kiri.
“Disgusting.”
“Shut up and eat your cake.”
Mrs. Chhim eats every bite of hers while insisting the slice is too large.
Rithy gives her another flower from the top for the last bite.
Kiri steals half of mine and denies it with frosting still on his fork.
For a few minutes, the house feels easy.
Normal. Mrs. Chhim laughs while telling me about the first cake Kiri tried to make when he was twelve.
Rithy insists it was raw in the center. Kiri claims ovens were less reliable in the nineties.
Then a car door slams outside and every sound in the kitchen stops. Four heads turn toward the front of the house. Rithy says it first.
“Shit.”
Mrs. Chhim is already moving. She snatches up the empty plates and stacks them quickly, forks clattering against china. Kiri takes the knife from the counter and wipes it clean even though there’s barely anything on it.
“Where’s the box?” Mrs. Chhim asks.
“Ma, leave it. It’s just a cake.”
“The counter is mess. Move cups.”
Kiri starts gathering them. The change is so immediate it makes my skin go cold.
A moment ago, they were laughing. Now Mrs. Chhim wipes at an invisible spot near the sink while Kiri straightens the cake box and moves the candles into a drawer.
Rithy takes the bottle of champagne off the counter and shoves it beneath the island.
No one has to tell anyone what to do, they already know from years of practice.
Footsteps cross the path outside. Mrs. Chhim smooths both hands down the front of her blouse. Kiri positions himself slightly in front of me without appearing to move at all.
Then the handle begins to rattle.