"So what's your plan?"
I look outside the window behind my mom. Mud season has ended, and we're starting to get a hint of spring on the horizon. It's still fucking cold, but it's the kind of cold I'm used to.
Mom knows about Pierre and what happened in Paris. It seems that talking to Skyler at the cabin opened my box of secrets, and once I told him, I felt that I needed to tell my parents too.
My dad had gone apeshit, asking for all kinds of information and saying he'd sort it all out and I'd have my money in no time. Apparently, one of his work colleagues at the accountancy firm is married to a French woman whose brother is an accountant in Paris. It took everything in me not to break down in a sobbing mess because I couldn't remember the last time I had anyone so fiercely in my corner.
And that is totally my fault for practically running away ten years ago and staying away. The independence I needed to stand on my own two feet and find myself was good, but everyone needs someone to lean on every once in a while.
"My friend, Spencer, called me with a business proposal," I say.
Until I have my money from Pierre, I can't do anything, but maybe I can talk it through with my mom. After all, she's been my champion ever since I asked her to teach me how to cook.
"That sweet boy I met once on a video call?"
I laugh, remembering how my mom had become totally enamored with Spencer and his British accent. Not to mention he really is the most adorable person in the world.
"Yeah, him. He's been in LA for a while, and now that I'm Pierre-free—his words—he wants me to move there to work with him. He opened up a restaurant with his sister and wants to expand."
"So…you're leaving again?"
I hate to hear the disappointment in her voice, but what future do I have in Vermont? Whatever I choose to do, it's likely going to end up with me having to move.
"I don't know. Not yet, anyway. Spencer needs a business partner, and I don't have the capital. He's happy to wait for me though."
"Hmm…that's good…" She stands up and takes our empty cups with her to the sink. "If you're sure it's what you want, then I'll support you. I suppose at least you'll be on this side of the world. Maybe I can convince your dad to take a holiday and we can visit you on the West coast."
I go over to her and wrap my arms around her tiny frame. "I love you so much, Mom."
"Oh, I know. As moms go, I'm kinda neat."
I laughed. "You really are. Now tell me what it is we're supposed to be doing today."
She hands me the knife and points to the box of apples.
"We're decorating a cake and making mini apple pies for a retirement party. I already have the pastry in the fridge, so you can work on the filling while I work on the cake."
"Got it, Chef."
She laughs.
For the next hour or so, we work together with just the sound of her radio playing in the background. I plan in my head how I'm going to decorate the lattice cover for the pies.
I know it doesn't need to be anything complex, but it's been such a long time since I've worked with pastry that my body is practically humming with excitement.
My eye catches the bottle of Maple Sky syrup. Mom asked me to replace part of the sugar with maple syrup which turns out to be a genius idea. The filling for the pies has the rich sweet scent of maple and cinnamon, and suddenly the voices of all of my teachers from culinary school fill my brain.
"What's up?" Mom asks when she sees I’ve stopped moving the rolling pin over the pastry.
"I was just thinking about culinary school. When we start, we go back to basics. I can't tell you how many hours I spent chopping vegetables until my knife skills were perfect. It just came to me that in that search for perfection, we focus on what we need to learn and forget what we already know."
"That makes sense, but I'm not sure I'm following." She's covering the cake in butter icing, so she's not looking at me.
"How much maple syrup have I consumed in my life?"
"You don't want me to answer that, do you?" She laughs.
I'd throw something at her if I didn't respect the cake she's working on.
