“Phire, while you are playing Betty Crocker, we have to finalize the seating arrangements, music for the DJ and band, and if there are any special food orders we need to get them to the caterer,” Cynthia stated, sitting in Ms. Natalie’s kitchen watching Phire try her hand at cooking.
“I know, I’m listening.” Phire placed the bowl of butter on the countertop next to the sugar she had measured out. “All of the RSVP responses have been added to the spreadsheet I sent to your email. There were only 3 special requests. They are listed next to the names on the sheet. I also attached the seating chart with names filled in at each table.”
“I’ll take a look at the chart first.” Cynthia pulled up the email with the diagram attached. “This looks good. Do you have all 500 guests placed at a table?”
“No, just the ones who RSVP’d,” Phire replied. “Ms. Natalie, does this look right?” Phire peered at LT’s grandmother unsure of the task in front of her.
“Smooth it out a little more. You know, work it like you do in the bedroom. Smooth and steady. You don’t want any lumps.” Ms. Natalie chuckled. “This is simple. With all those brain cells you have up there I know you can do this. I don’t know about this one.” She pointed at Cynthia.
“I can cook in the kitchen and the bedroom,” Cynthia responded. “Three babies and we ain’t showing no signs of slowing up.”
“Okay, okay,” Phire exhaled. “Ms. Natalie, is this smooth enough, now?”
“Baby, calm down,” Ms. Natalie said, “it’s just a cake.”
“No, it’s not just a cake,” Phire exclaimed. “This is the thing that he doesn’t expect from me. He loves your pound cake and I want him to love mine too.”
“He already loves your cake and your cookies too from what I hear at night.”
Cynthia laughed as she examined the seating closer. “Well, all right now.”
“Ms. Natalie, we have to focus. He is having an important meeting with his siblings. I want to use this to ease the tension, if there is any. So I need this cake to be perfect.”
“All right, child,” Ms. Natalie said. “Pre-heat the oven to 350 degrees.”
“Okay.” Phire did as instructed. “I have a feeling it’s going to be up to me to bring everyone together. As you said, Ms. Natalie, the best way to bring people together is with food. Let’s hope this cake works its magic.”
“The magic comes with beating one egg into the final mixture at a time,” Ms. Natalie stated. “That looks good. Now add your sugar and mix it in well. Be sure to scrape the sides of the bowls to get the extra mixed in too.”
“I don’t know why you are so worried,” Cynthia said. “You are going to do whatever you think is right as far as LT’s family goes. He’s going to accept it and follow your lead because he trusts your judgment. I wish I’d had that when I was your age, making decisions that impacted my life.”
“You have Samuel,” Phire corrected as she set the bowl of butter and sugar mixture aside.
“I have him now, but back when I was going through things with my mother, Samuel wasn’t in my life. Brian was there, but hell, he was worse than I was when it came to my mother,” Cynthia replied.
“What’s wrong with your mother?” Ms. Natalie asked. “Light and fluffy. Good. Now add the vanilla, mace and a little lemon extract.”
“Got it.” Phire nodded. “Her mother is crazy. No disrespect, Cynthia, but I’m just saying. Your mother really is crazy. She almost put Sasha’s mother to shame.”
Cynthia laughed. “They are a close call, that’s for sure.”
“Who is Sasha’s mother and how does your mother put her to shame,” Ms. Natalie asked as she moved the bowl of eggs and the milk next to the bowl Phire was stirring.
“Sasha is our new sister-in-law,” Phire explained as she hand-mixed the batter. “Her mother’s name is Stephanie and let’s just say she is no Mother Teresa.”
“And neither is my mother,” Cynthia added. “She is self-centered, self-absorbed, hateful, manipulative and a fame hog.”
“Fame hog?” Ms. Natalie stared at Cynthia with a curious look.
“She wants to be famous but doesn’t have the talent,” Phire stated. “She was a dancer when my mother was still in the life. Sally got all the attention, frankly because she was the better dancer. Sofia, Cynthia’s mother always came in second and sometimes third behind Sally in competition.”
Cynthia nodded at Phire’s words. “So she tried to capture the fame by forcing me to be in beauty pageants.”
“Now this is the trick. This is what’s going the make the cake light. Add in an egg and some milk, then mix it in really good. Then repeat that process until all the eggs and milk are blended in,” Ms. Natalie instructed then looked at Cynthia. “You are a beautiful woman. I bet you were an adorable child.”
“I am, thank you and I was, but I wanted to play and had no interest in pageants. Then when my brother’s talent began to show, she and my father moved to LA and left me here in Virginia to fend for myself.”
“How old were you then?” Ms. Natalie asked. “One at a time, child. Don’t rush the process.”
“I was eighteen, a freshman in college,” Cynthia replied.
Ms. Natalie frowned. “That’s kind of young to leave a girl on her own. How did you take care of yourself?”
“Oh, money wasn’t an issue for their family,” Phire responded as she continued to mix the eggs and milk into the cake batter. “They lived on what you old folks called the other side of the tracks. They had money, nice cars and a big house.”
“True, a big empty house,” Cynthia explained. “If it wasn’t for Brian moving in with me I would have lost my mind. We have never had much of a relationship since then.”
“And you think if you had handled your parents’ desertion in a different way you would have a better relationship with them now?” Ms. Natalie asked.
“I have a great relationship with my father,” Cynthia replied. “It’s just…well, with my mother, she never forgave me for not doing what she wanted.”
“What happened with your brother?” Ms. Natalie asked.
Cynthia glanced at Phire.
“She has no idea who Blake is,” Phire laughed. “All she remembers is that fine boy who was at Thanksgiving dinner.”
“Cutie pie?” Ms. Natalie smiled. “That’s your brother? Child, let me tell you. That boy should be on somebody’s television.”
Cynthia laughed. “He is. On television, the movie screens, front page of magazines and on every girl’s ‘he could get it’ list.”
“Get what?”
Phire and Cynthia burst into laughter.
“It’s not important,” Phire replied. “It’s ready to go into the cake pan, Ms. Natalie.”
“Maybe if I had followed my mother’s wishes we would have a better relationship now.” Cynthia sobered.
“Yes, it’s ready,” Ms. Natalie said as she put the greased and floured cake pan on the counter. Then turned back to Cynthia. “Baby, let me tell you something. She was the adult in your relationship. Not you. She could have packed both you and your brother up and moved to LA. She did not.”
“But she was eighteen, Ms. Natalie,” Phire said while pouring the batter into the pan. “They couldn’t force her against her will.”
“LT is thirty-two. I can still influence him to do what is best for him and your parents can do the same with you, Sapphire. It’s all in how you raise your children. When you raise them to respect you it doesn’t matter what age they are. When it comes down to it, that child will respect and trust your guidance.” She looked at Cynthia. “There is nothing for you to regret when it comes to your mother. You were not the one in control of that relationship. Your mother was. It was on her and your father to set parameters when you were young. I don’t know you all that well, but I can see you are a strong-willed woman. I can only imagine how you were as a child. It was up to your parents to rein you in. If they had, you would have never wanted to be separated from your family.”
“If that had happened you would have never met Samuel.” Phire smiled at Cynthia.
Hesitating before she replied. “I would have found that man,” Cynthia chuckled. “There was no way I would have been walking this earth without Samuel at my side.”
“That’s how I feel about LT. I don’t care what planet he was on, I would have found him.” Phire exhaled with a smile as she placed the pan inside the oven. “My life was meant to collide with his. And I have to say I think Ms. Natalie is right. You were the child, you were allowed to do what your parents let you do. Can you imagine Joe and Sally leaving any one of us behind?”
“Hell, they barely let any of you out of their sight now,” Cynthia laughed. “Every Sunday all of us are going to show up at the dining room table. You know why?”
“Respect,” Ms. Natalie answered. “Set the timer to 90 minutes.”
“No, that’s not why,” Phire corrected as she did as instructed. “We all show up on Sundays because Sally, Ruby and Diamond can cook. I’m just saying.”
“Mr. Green says the same thing about my dining room table,” Ms. Natalie supplied. “That’s why he’s on my ‘he can get it’ list.”
Phire and Cynthia stared at Ms. Natalie in surprise.
“Yes, I said it.”
The women burst into laughter.