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Grandma went upstairs to get out of her wet clothes, and I went into the kitchen.
“I came over to bake a cake,” I told my mother.
My mother stopped chopping vegetables and made the sign of the cross. “Something’s wrong. You have breast cancer. You found a lump.”
“No!”
“You’re pregnant.”
“I’m fine. I just feel like making a cake.”
“Holy mother! Where did you get that bruise?”
“I walked into something.”
I unpacked my bag and set everything on the kitchen table. “I was going to make the cake at home but it turns out I don’t have a mixer. Or a bowl. So I brought everything here.”
“Maybe you should start with a box mix. I’ve got Duncan Hines in the pantry.”
“Nope. I’m making it from scratch. If this turns out I might go to school to be a pastry chef.”
My mother clapped her hand to her heart. “You got fired. The bonds office burned down again. Somebody finally killed Vinnie.”
“Everything is fine. I just got to thinking it might be fun to bake cakes.”
“There’s got to be a reason for this. Did Joseph propose? Did he give you a ring? Would you like to learn how to roast a chicken?”
“No, no, and no. Joe and I broke up, remember?”
Grandma came into the kitchen. “What did I miss?”
“Stephanie and Joseph are still on the outs,” my mother said.
I pulled the recipe out of my bag and put it on the counter. “I’m going to make a chocolate cake. And I’m going to make it all by myself.”
“Good for you,” Grandma said. “Go for it.”
“All I have to do is follow the recipe, right?”
“Right,” Grandma said. “And then we can eat it for dinner. We’re having pasta and red sauce and meatballs, if you want to stay. We got a lot of it.”
“Sure. That sounds good.”
“I don’t know why you keep breaking up with Joseph,” my mother said. “He’s such a nice young man.”
This was true. But he didn’t want me. It was so painful I couldn’t say it out loud.
“I have to concentrate on this cake,” I said. “I don’t want to mess up.”
“Last time you tried to cook something you set your kitchen on fire,” Grandma said.
“Baking is better,” I said. “It doesn’t involve oil that suddenly bursts into flames.”
I measured everything out and precisely followed the directions. I looked at the two cake pans.
“It says I’m supposed to dust them with flour,” I said to Grandma.
“Yeah, but first you got to grease them up,” Grandma said.
