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As Ida launched into the juicy small-town gossip, I found myself stealing glances at Elara, marveling at how effortlessly she fit in with my boisterous family. They all loved her. Who wouldn’t?
What might life be like if she was always part of it? Best not to think too hard about that.
I watched my niece's face light up as she leaned in to whisper something to Elara, who responded with a conspiratorial grin.
"Hey, Cole?" Ethan's voice jolted me back to the present. "You still with us?"
"Course," I said, forcing a smile.
Rhea held up one of the crawfish, and made it dance on the table. The other girls squealed with laughter.
"So, Elara," Ida began, curiosity lacing her tone. "Tell us about your upcoming interview. How are you feeling about it?"
"Good, I think. Nervous, though. I've got to make two pastries for the interviewers. I have some ideas . . ."
"What are you thinking?"
Elara's face lit up at the question. "Well, I first got into baking because of my mom's apple pie."
"You're gonna serve them that?" I asked, excited for her.
Ethan looked at me.
"Not exactly," Elara clarified. "Mom's recipe is a little too simple to serve as-is. It'd be kind of embarrassing, honestly. So, I'm putting an elevated spin on it—a classic French tarte Tatin."
"Tatty tan!" Rhea said.
"It's kind of like an upside-down apple pie," Elara explained, “with caramel and apples and spice! If you do it well, it’s magic."
Ida nodded approvingly. "Sounds divine. And your second pastry?"
"Cotton candy cheesecake, inspired by my trip to the funfair.” She looked at me. “I wanted to do something really creative."
"You’re making something that reminds you of our day out?" Lexi asked.
"Yep. I wanted to give the interviewers a taste of that carefree fun we shared."
As ever, I could feel Ethan’s eyes boring into me.
"Do we have cotton candy for dessert?" Rhea asked.
"Nice try," I replied. "You had enough of that at the funfair to last a year."
"I did bring some tarte Tatin, though," Elara said. "Hopefully your dad will be okay with you trying some."
"Of course," I said. "We've got to make the most of Elara's desserts before she heads back to New York." I kept drilling that part home to the kids.
She’s heading back to New York.
Hey, kids, did I mention Elara’s heading back to New York?
I guess I wanted to prepare them for the fact that she wouldn’t be part of our lives forever. More importantly, though, I had to prepare myself.
Later, as we tucked into the tarte Tatin, and everyone oohed and ahhed about how good it was, I stayed quiet. I liked it, obviously. It was fucking delicious, like everything Elara made. But honestly, I still preferred her apple pie. Of course, I kept that to myself. I didn’t want Elara judging my unrefined palate. Guess I just felt like such a bumpkin around her. A simple man of simple tastes. I knew that I was holding her back.
We cleared the last of the dishes from the table, and the kids headed back into the lounge to play whatever violent video game they'd started earlier. I watched Elara as she helped Ida carry the huge mound of crawfish carcasses to the kitchen. That slit in her denim skirt had gotten longer somehow, I swear.
"So, Cole," said Ethan as soon as we were alone. "When are you planning to take your two-week vacation?"
