Gram's Special Visit

“Tessa, time to wake up.”

“Grams, what are you doing here?”

“We’re going to make my chocolate cake, dear.”

“Now, after making me wait twenty years?”

“Yes, if you ever get out of bed.”

“Why today?”

“Your grandfather’s birthday’s today. Bless his soul. I always bake it in memory of him and decided that it’s time to pass that on to you.”

“It’s still dark out,” I grumble.

Her laughter fills my room, “I know it’s early, but haven’t I always said the best time to bake is in the morning?”

“Ugh, six A.M. on the one day I can sleep in all week. I should have asked for my key back,” I mumble, hiding under my pillow.

“It can’t be helped, it must be today dear. You know the recipe isn’t written down and none of my children remember how to make it.”

“That’s because they don’t enjoy baking and you never shared it with anyone.”

“It’s been in my family for generations and I must pass it on. Once you drink your coffee you’ll feel better. I would have started it, but I can’t figure out your new-fangled machine. Why you can’t get a nice percolator is something I’ll never understand.”

She walks out mumbling, making me grin. If I have to be woken up early, I’m glad it’s by her. Not only is she my grams but also one of my best friends. I stumble into the bathroom to get cleaned up. Glancing in the mirror at my messy dark curls and sleepy brown eyes, I tie on a baking bandana.

“You must always be clean when baking for others.”

Is something she’s drilled into me since I was a child, standing on her kitchen stool helping her stir. I trip over Milo, as I walk into the kitchen, who’s sulking in the hallway. This is odd because normally he never leaves my side.

I stare into his disgruntled golden-brown eyes, “What’s wrong baby? Was that mean old raccoon teasing you again?”

Throwing his head back and howling is his only response. I pet him once and walk into the kitchen, leaving him to his mood. Coffee first. While my cup is brewing, I feed him and fill his water. Then open the sliding glass door, so he may come and go as he pleases.

He darts past both bowls into the backyard, laying in his bed on the patio, staring at me. “I wonder what’s gotten into him? I hope he’s feeling ok.”

“He’ll be fine dear. Do you still have that instant coffee you make for me?”

My eyes roll. Luckily, my back is turned. “Grams, why don’t you try a cup of my morning blend with the Keurig? It’s always fresh.”

“Darling, don’t roll your eyes. Just make your grandmother a cup of coffee. Besides, you need instant for the frosting and cake.”

“Sorry, I’m grouchy. I’ll put the kettle on. You look very pretty this morning. Have you been to your salon?”

“No, but thank you. I’m feeling much younger today.”

When I walk over to kiss her cheek, she drifts past me into the pantry. “If you’re hungry, help yourself.”

“I’m fine, only making sure that we have everything we need.”

For years I’ve been trying to guess what’s in her chocolate cake. It’s me the only family she hasn’t shared with me. Now that the day is finally here, I’m afraid I won’t have all the ingredients. I pull out cups, bowls, pans, and spoons from the cupboards and set them on my island counter. She’s rummaging in the pantry, humming a Patsy Cline song, one of my favorites.

I turn and she’s perched on a stool, still humming. Sipping my coffee, I double-check the counter, making sure everything’s set out that I’m going to need.

“That’s right, an organized baker is a happy baker. Make sure you have your notebook.”

“You’re permitting me to write down your secret recipe? Really?”

“When you put your cookbook together, you’re going to want to include it. Aren’t you?”

“I haven’t talked to anyone about that yet. How did you guess?”

“Don’t forget, I helped raise you and know your dreams. They start with your cookbook. Which will lead to you opening a family restaurant. Don’t ever give up. Work hard and make them come true.”

My treasured notebook is where I store years of recipes from our family, that I’ve collected diligently. These include many pages of dishes that she and I have made together.

“You know I’ll try,” I sigh, resting my hands on the cover. “I’m going to need your help supervising the kitchen.”

“Are you ready to begin, I always make the frosting first. Once the cakes are out of the oven you can cool them in the window, but the frosting needs a couple of hours to set up.”

After washing my hands, I tie my favorite beagle apron on. She watches me with a smile, “You remind me of myself when I was younger except, my only ambitions were to be a good mother and wife.”

“You’re a wonderful loving person, who has helped so many over the years. How many baskets of food have you left on people's doorsteps? How many hours have you spent in soup kitchens?”

“My lot in life is to feed people. When you know someone is hungry, you should help. Are you ready to start the frosting?”

I nod, as I write every word. “Melt one stick of unsalted butter, add 1½ cups sugar, 1¼ cups unsweetened cocoa powder, and a pinch of salt. In a large measuring cup, stir together 1¼ cup heavy cream, ¼ cup sour cream, and a teaspoon of instant coffee. Stir this mixture in with the butter and cook until the sugar dissolves. Remove it from the heat. Now, Tessa, you have to remember to do this. You know what happened that time you made a cheesecake topping.”

“I can guess what the last ingredient is,” a laugh bubbles out. “Out of all the cakes, pies, and fillings we’ve made, what’s it going to take for me to live one small fire down?” I grumble, adjusting the shades in my bright kitchen, from the sun rising.

“Yes, it’s two teaspoons of vanilla.” She reaches for my hand, but pulls back, playing with her necklace. “How many times have I said you must know your ingredients. You learned about vanilla pretty quickly,” she chuckles.

“Play best of Patsy Cline,” I ask Alexa, as I measure and pour. The kitchen is homey and filled with love, as well as, music and the smell of chocolate. “I’m thrilled you woke me up. I can’t think of a better way to spend my day off.”

“Let me guess, you were planning on binge-watching one of your shows? This is much better. After the cakes are in the oven we can watch a movie.”

“You know me well,” I turn to grin. Holding my wooden spoon, “Today I was thinking about having a movie day. Any suggestions?”

“How about The Quiet Man or Desk Set?”

“We’ve watched both a hundred times. Any others you like?”

“There’s one I watched that has two of our favorites,” she smiles as the sunlight almost touches her. “But, I don’t care what we watch, as long as we're spending time together.”

“I know we’ve been playing phone tag all week,” I turn with the pot. “We’ll look as soon as we’re finished in here. The frosting is done. Now what?"

"Pour it into a bowl and then we’ll start the cake.”

My two favorite baking pans are sprayed and waiting. “I’m ready. What’s in your magic cake,” I ask with excitement.

“In the first bowl whisk together 3 cups of flour, 2 cups of sugar, ½ cup unsweetened cocoa powder, 2 teaspoons baking soda, and 1 teaspoon salt.”

“What temp should I preheat the oven to?” I ask as I make sure everything is written down correctly and start measuring.

“Sorry, my mind is wondering. 350 degrees. Did you make sure your pans are prepped?”

“They’re ready. You watched me spray them,” I turn from the stove. “Why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you.”

“Nothing dear. Just worrying about you and your happiness. It’s time you found your special person to share your life with.”

“What?” I laugh, “With Milo in my life, what more do I need.”

“You need companionship, whoever he or she is. I hope they are kind and treat you well.”

“I love you for your great big heart and an open mind.”

“That’s always been my way. Are the dry ingredients mixed?"

"Yes, the second I find someone who reminds me of you or Cary Grant, I’ll share my life with them. Until that day, I’m happy with my family, friends, and beagle.”

“I can’t fault your taste dear,” she chuckles and fluffs her hair. “Just don’t wait too long.”

“I’ve been trying to guess your secret ingredient. What is it?” I wait tapping my pen on the counter.

“No secret. Only something you don’t expect to find in cake. Combine 2 cups of hot water, ¾ cup vegetable oil, 2 tablespoons white vinegar, 1 tablespoon instant coffee, and 1 tablespoon vanilla extract.”

“White vinegar,” the pen falls on the counter. “That’s your secret ingredient? Water? I’ve used milk and no eggs.”

“That’s the trick. Once you have the wet ingredients mixed well, add the dry ones in, a few lumps are fine. Now pour three cups of batter into each pan and bake for thirty-five to forty minutes.”

“What’s better than chocolate cake for lunch?” I ask as I straighten the kitchen. “What’s the movie you picked?”

“Charade, starring Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn.”

“Great, let’s go find it,” I look out the window. “Where’s Milo?”

“Did you set the timer dear?” She joins me, “He snuck into your room.”

“That’s odd. He loves when you come over,” I turn to her. “Yes, Alexa’s timer is on and she found the movie. I’ll close the curtains so we can enjoy it.”

Every time I try to shift closer to her, she moves away. But the action keeps my attention off her and on the tv. When the timer sounds, I hit pause and hurry out of the room. With her voice following me, “Remember to flip the cakes upside down on the cooling rack.”

“That’s what makes them flat and level.”

“I love you, Tessa, never forget that.”

“To the moon and back, I love you. Alexa stop,” I shout as the timer continues, and my phone rings, “Hold on a second.”

The cakes come out, “Cassie what’s wrong?” I ask, as I carefully flip them and one almost drops. “That’s not funny. What kind of sick joke is this saying Gram’s passed away last night? She’s been with me all morning.”

Milo walks into the kitchen. “I’m hanging up now,” I shout throwing my phone on the counter. I run into my front room. The TV is paused and the curtains are open. The room is bright and Grams is nowhere. I sink onto the couch as my doorbell rings. Milo joins me.

“I don’t understand. Is that why you’re acting strangely?” I mumble, holding him close and burying my face in his fur. He whines as mom's arms go around us.

“Tessa, I’m sorry. I got here as fast as I could.”

“Mom, we just baked her chocolate cake.”

“I brought us a slice. It came out beautifully. I’m so happy she shared her recipe with you before it was too late.”

“She gave it to me this morning, not before. We just got done baking it.”

“You’re in shock right now, baby. We all are. Look, it’s cooled and lovely."

I hug her, knowing she’ll never believe me. “I love you, I’ll look for my Cary Grant. I promise.”

Gram’s laughter surrounds us, along with the smell of her chocolate cake cooling in the window.