Bruschetta
The smell of toasted bread and garlic permeated the apartment, making Elyna’s stomach grumble. In the background, the randomly chosen cable channel was running a strange show; a row of bum-naked women awaited patiently for their partners to identify them through touching, or smelling, or worse…
What the…?
Elyna switched the TV off, wondering if she shouldn’t stick to state channels instead. With dinner nearly ready and a few minutes to spare, she pulled out her phone. The zodiac conversation from her birthday was still nagging at her. Just curiosity… nothing more.
Ouch. And he didn’t get to celebrate because of culture week. That’s tough.
Thirty years old… eight years older than her. Not too much, really. Actually rather… perfect for—
Ugh! Elyna caught herself, heat creeping up her neck. But thirty… that wasn’t old. He looked incredibly good, even. Experienced, probably, not like those fumbling boys who—Stop it. He’s not interested, you’re not interested, he’s your supervisor.
But what made Dragons tick, huh?
Her hands flew across the digital keyboard.
The results loaded in no time. Strong, confident, natural leaders.
Dragons are charismatic and commanding, drawing others to them effortlessly.
They are fiercely protective of those they care for, and possess an innate dignity that can seem intimidating.
Behind their composed exterior lies passionate intensity…
Elyna’s lips curved. That is so like him.
The way he commanded the classroom without raising his voice, how he valued good work, and strived for perfection.
Composed to death. Her chest tightened. He really was magnificent, wasn’t he?
In that understated way that made her heart do ridiculous things.
There were videos in the background about zodiac compatibilities. Without thinking, she selected the Dragon/Rat thumbnail. Elyna set the phone down as she arranged the table, only half-listening to the way-too-cheerful old lady.
"...considered one of the most auspicious combinations in the Chinese zodiac. The Dragon is drawn to the Rat’s cleverness and adaptability, while the Rat finds security in the Dragon’s strength…”
Elyna’s hands stilled on the plate she was setting down.
“Dragons protect their Rats fiercely, and Rats sharpen their Dragons’ vision. They challenge each other intellectually while maintaining deep mutual respect. When asked about compatibility, many practitioners consider this pairing—” the woman paused for emphasis, “—the very best”.
Elyna stopped the video, her breath short.
The very best. His own words.
A silent scream ran through her mind. Then she shook her head sharply. No. He was just… knowledgeable about these things, wasn’t he? Traditional. Spiritual. Sano probably knew his zodiac compatibility charts like multiplier tables, right? Some kind of cultural quirk.
That he was nice enough to share his knowledge with his teaching assistant should satisfy her. Yet…
The sound of her mother’s heels clicking on the floor jolted her back to reality. Elyna shoved her phone in her pocket and peeked at the clock—7 pm. Not too late for once.
Katrine discarded her coat on the sofa’s back, but did not leave her shoes in the genkan. Elyna pursed her lips, watching the kitten heels with disapproval; it wouldn’t do to trigger her mother’s volatile temper.
“What’s all this?” Katrine asked. Elyna’s cheeks flushed as she contemplated the lumpy toasts, pride and shame tangled together. “Well, I wanted a piece of Italy so I tried to make bruschetta.”
Elyna gestured towards the plate dramatically, her smile hopeful. Cherry tomatoes, olive oil, fresh basil leaves and mozzarella melting all over the baking tray. It smelt more appetising than it looked.
Katrine moved closer, loosening her blond tresses from the strict bun she favoured at work. Freed, her hair tumbled over her shoulder, as straight as her principles.
“Well. At least the cooking classes pay off,” she grumbled, examining the bruschetta with the kind of critical look that caused Elyna to brace for impact.
Katrine had ranted about home management classes being discriminatory, a relic of patriarchy and a bygone era where women weren’t taught to carve their own future.
Well, she’s not exactly wrong.
But life wasn’t a black and white; everything had a shade. After all, you could be a minister or an engineer and cook for fun, right?
As she sat, Elyna made a list of potential improvements, especially since the mozzarella was determined to crawl away.
Strangely, no criticism came as her mother’s green eyes travelled to the fruit basket, filled with persimmons, nashi pears, and satsuma oranges. “And you seem to be eating more fruit.”
The young woman tried, very hard, not to blush as the melon doodle that slept in her treasure box sprang to mind. Willing the image away, she dragged a melting toast onto her plate and added a few salad leaves for good measure. Imbibed with tomato juice, the bread was as limp as an oyster.
Perhaps 10 more minutes on the grill, next time?
Katrine settled in as well, filling her plate with an efficient scoop; strangely, the bruschetta behaved. As the knife cut purposefully through the lumpy dinner, her ice-green eyes dissected her with surgical precision, pondering her next move on the chessboard.
The checkmate came much sooner than expected. “I was thinking…”, she swallowed, humming happily at the taste. “Perhaps it’s time to have the sex talk now you’ve got a boyfriend.”
Elyna inhaled a piece of the basil and started coughing. As she hacked, her face caught fire at the implication. Does she think I’m a virgin?
A glass of water appeared before her eyes, and she nearly drowned in it. Cough, cough. “Mum,” she finally rasped, feeling she was about to combust. “No. Absolutely not! Shūji is NOT my boyfriend, he’s a student!”
Her mother shrugged, swallowing a cherry tomato with gusto. “Private life is private life, as long as it doesn’t affect your performance.”
The Norwegian way… or perhaps, even more, the Katrine way. It felt almost comforting, for a moment, to escape the strict rules of the kōkō. Yet, she couldn’t allow that rumour to solidify.
“Mum, Shūji is not my boyfriend. At all. And you could have warned me before giving him condoms!”
Katrine’s eyebrows shot up, amusement dancing on her face. “Ah, the cad! He was supposed to keep it a secret.”
Secret my ass. Shūji will stop at nothing to embarrass me.
“You know I won’t judge, Elyna. If you’re in love with him…”
The fork slipped from her grasp and clattered on her plate; Elyna buried her face in her hands, struggling between a giggle and a defeated groan. “Oh my God, Mum, no!”
Ugh! The very thought of touching Shūji made her want to scrub her brain with bleach. She was so NOT into him it was painful to even imagine holding his hand. Of course, her traitorous mind had to conjure up another set of hands, gentle and firm as they demonstrated proper stretching technique.
She doesn’t care about me dating a student… what if it was a teacher?
Taking a deep breath, Elyna ate a bit of her bruschetta, studying the taste to gather her wits. A tad too squishy, but overall good. Her mother didn’t seem convinced, though, and that calculating gaze was boring holes into her.
“Mum. I’m on the pill, as you very well know. And I know about STDs. And I’m not going out with anyone.”
Katrine pursed her lips, eyes flashing dangerously. “That’s not what he told me?”
Elyna froze like a deer caught in headlights. “That’s Shūji for you, he’s… a prankster that way.”
Silence settled, heavy. The young woman held her breath until her lungs screamed bloody murder. Finally, her mother sighed. “Honestly, I’m relieved you don’t have a Japanese boyfriend.”
Aha. That hurts. Why does it hurt?
Elyna almost melted on the chair in relief. “OK, good. So no sex talk, Mum. Please. I’m begging you. Have mercy. Especially not during dinner.”
Katrine mercifully let the subject drop.
Phew, disaster averted.
For a moment, they just sampled the so-called bruschetta, Katrine humming in delight when mozzarella melted on her tongue. “It’s good,” she commented. “A nice first try.”
When they both reached for the fruit basket at the same time, their hands bumped. Her mother laughed, choosing a bright red persimmon.
“Have you seen the price of melons here?” she commented, her knife running fast through the juicy flesh. “It’s absolutely ridiculous when you think you could buy five for that price in Florence.”
“Yeah, I miss the market,” Elyna replied, dismembering a tangerine that promised to cajole her taste buds.
The flavours burst across her tongue, and she was suddenly reminded of San Lorenzo: fruits and vegetables piled high, vendors shouting over the puttering of cars and old mopeds, the air smelling of herbs, fish, and exhaust fumes.
And of course, the locals holding entire conversations at volumes that would pass for arguments anywhere else.
Elyna gobbled up another segment of juicy fruit and grimaced. “But I don’t miss the noise.”
Katrine snickered. “Yeah, that was a pain.”
“All the ‘ciao bella ragazza!’” Elyna mused, imitating the theatrical Italian accent. The flirting had been annoying as hell. “It’s so much quieter here.”
For a while, the silence felt almost comfortable, an easy moment that Elyna craved because of its rarity. As Katrine stole a segment of tangerine from her plate with a mischievous smile, the young woman marvelled at her relaxed expression.
Katrine Eriksen looked beautiful when she was happy, with those ice-green eyes and defined cheekbones.
A classic Nordic beauty. Was it this smile that had lured her father in, secured him in her affections?
Sometimes, Elyna wondered if her parents had loved each other so much that the downfall had been so painful, so utterly devastating.
Love, it seemed, could make people bitter.