Samantha wasn’t a stranger to being the odd one out in a room full of people at a party. She’d gone to enough lawyer parties with her ex-wife to know the subtle art of small talk and feigning interest, ready to rebuff any snide comments about her job, her wage, or her status. But this party was different. Instead of giving her the cold shoulder or ignoring her, all her guests were treating her like they’d been friends for years. People she’d never met came up to her, claiming they brought a great, personal gift. Some of them hit the nail right on the head too.
The table in the hall kept growing and growing with presents, most of them coming in thin, shiny bags holding a bottle. Word about her love of whisky had to have gotten out somehow. From the few glances she’d managed, most of them were really good quality too.
Samantha stared at the crowd of people mingling in her home. The loud music surely had to be driving the neighbours crazy but nobody had come to complain. Then again, it was still early.
She moved through the mass, careful not to step on anyone’s toes or draw too much attention to her. Everyone’s overwhelming enthusiasm and excitement was a bit much and that was without any drinking yet.
Reluctantly, she made her way to the kitchen, the gathering of ingredients on the kitchen island taunted her as she opened the fridge. She really, really hoped Lilith would forget the Night Soup, but she feared she wouldn’t be that lucky.
After a good half hour of welcoming people into her home, Lilith appeared back in the kitchen. “Time for the soup.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Where’s the pot?”
Samantha gestured to the fridge. “It took up my fridge the entire week.”
“Oh, well. Good thing you don’t cook,” Lilith joked as she got the large pot and put it on the stove. “Let’s get this Nox Night started. I’ll mind the onions. You should cut the ingredients up. About a handful or a cupful of each.”
“Great…” Sam lied as she opened a drawer for a knife and cutting board. Even though she wasn’t a great cook, her cutting skills were decent. She reached for the nearest ingredient and put the red apple on the board. “Should I peel it?”
“No need,” Lilith instructed.
With a couple of slices, Samantha cubed the apple into small pieces and pushed them to the side. Unfortunately, the apple was one of the more normal things on the table. She ignored the bag of slimy mushrooms and smelly kelp, choosing to cut the large squash first. She hated the stringy guts of pumpkins but it was better than the bag of bugs or the box with fermented fish.
Just the thought of it all going into one pot made Sam’s stomach turn. She opened a jar and gagged as a sour smell assaulted her senses.
“What the fuck is that?” She turned around to push the jar under Lilith’s nose and watched with some joy as the other woman gagged too.
“Ewwww.”
“Yummy yummy in the soup,” Sam teased, waving the open jar around. She tried not to breathe in to avoid the stench but the rotting, sour smell was unavoidable.
“Stop!” Lilith shrieked. She waved the spoon at Sam and tried to pull the jar from her hand. Her hands moved all over Sam’s body, patting her as they wrestled over the jar.
Sam found herself laughing loudly. Despite the stress of hosting a party she had no clue about, playing around with Lilith was always fun. “Careful, you’ll make me spill! I don’t want this all over my kitchen.”
“Serves you right!”
“Noooo.”
“Aaaaah.”
“Get off, get off!”
“Come get it!”
Giggling and shrieking like children, Samantha finally managed to close the jar even though Lilith had her trapped against the kitchen island. With both hands firmly on either side of her hips, their bodies pressed flush against each other.
The laughter died down and an intense silence fell over the two women. Despite being surrounded by people, Samantha realised she didn’t feel nearly as awkward as she expected by Lilith’s proximity. So what if others saw? They were both adults and if anyone had a problem with it, they could get out.
Lilith’s gaze flicked from Sam’s lips to her eyes and back. The tension grew as her hands moved from the island onto Sam’s waist, gentle and firm at the same time.
Ready to be kissed, Samantha closed her eyes and waited, but the kiss never came. Instead, the warmth created by their bodies vanished as Lilith stepped back and muttered an apology.
Disappointed, Sam looked at the other woman. What just happened?
Lilith shot her an apologetic smile. “Sorry… We said we were going to take it slow, right?”
A lump formed in Sam’s throat. If only she could find her courage for five seconds and tell Lilith what she really wanted, maybe the other woman wouldn’t be standing so far away from her.
Just five seconds of bravery.
“I…” Sam hesitated for a second too long.
With a disappointed look, Lilith turned away to stir the onions in the pot, the playful mood completely gone. “Hand me some of the ingredients.”
Sam contemplated resuming the conversation but the moment had passed. Annoyed at her cowardice, she grabbed a handful of apple cubes and moved so she could toss them in the pot. The onions and oil sizzled and the aroma changed almost instantly.
Trapped in an awkward atmosphere, more and more things made their way into the soup. Instead of enjoying cooking together, the two women worked in tense silence.
With every passing second, a new, weird ingredient found its way into the pot. Purple potatoes, mushroom clusters, fermented cheese, there was no end to the strange combination. It struck Sam as making soup from what could be found in a garbage container next to a restaurant.
She finished the soup off with a healthy glug of cream, a squeeze of lime, and three types of wine and five shots of different whiskies. The cream curdled as it mingled with the lime juice in the murky soup. It reminded Sam of a swamp or fresh vomit.
“Do you have a blender?” Lilith asked, stirring the soup of death and fishing out some suspicious chunks. “Or should we leave it as is?”
Sam held back a gag. “Blend, I think. It’ll be better if it’s smooth.”
“You’re right. Where’s your blender?”
“Here, right cupboard,” Sam said, reaching up to find it empty. “Ah, fuck. Melissa must’ve taken it. Did you bring one?”
“No, mine broke last year and I’ve been meaning to replace it.” Lilith drew eights in the soup and pulled up her nose. “Oh, this is not going to be pleasant like this.”
Sam had never seen anything as unappetising as the thick, chunky soup. Compared to the slodge, her microwave meal seemed gourmet. She took a step back, trying to keep herself from getting sick. “How much do we need to eat?”
“A ladle’s worth.”
“Do we have a small one?”
Lilith held up a massive metal ladle, about the size of a small bowl. “Nope.”