How to Bake a Perfect Life - Barbara O'Neal [6]
I feel acutely the absence of Sofia. To get her safely off, to make her feel brave, I have kept the terrible news of the day at arm’s length, but now it floods through me, dark and immovable. Her life is forever changed, and I suspect her road will be very hard.
Bending my head, I let my tears fall. Here in this safe place, in my grandmother’s garden, I can weep freely. It often feels that my grandmother Adelaide, is with me here in the enclave she created. Sometimes I imagine I can hear her softly humming a nameless tune.
Lilacs were her favorite flower, and tonight in the warm evening, they offer respite. Taking a basket and a sturdy pair of shears from the shed, I cut great armfuls of blossoms. It’s impossible not to feel my grandmother tagging along as I do it. This was her house. This was her ritual, cutting lilacs that trailed dew and purple petals. The warm day has released their fragrance, a scent so powerful it almost seems to tint the air. I’m helpless against the dark and light blossoms, the dazzlement of their short season, the droplets of stained water that fall on my wrists.
I carry some upstairs; others I put in gigantic vases along the porch railing, where anyone who sits at the scattering of café tables can admire them while eating a croissant and drinking a coffee. I put a vaseful in Katie’s room and then one in my own bedroom, where I fall on the bed, just for a moment. As if the flowers hold some magic presence, I fall asleep, the scent caressing me like a hand, as if my grandmother is smoothing my hair away from my forehead.
RAMONA’S BOOK OF BREADS
EASY PAIN AU CHOCOLAT
This is a recipe my aunt Poppy’s best friend, Nancy, loves like crazy. She makes it the long way, which I do like, but it’s also fun to make the fast version sometimes, too.
2 sheets frozen puff pastry, thawed
1 large egg, beaten with 1 tsp water
12 oz. bittersweet chocolate (chips work fine)
sugar for dusting
Prepare a baking sheet by lining it with parchment or oiling it lightly. Cut each sheet of pastry into 12 squares and brush each with egg glaze. Then sprinkle ½ oz. of chocolate (a few chips) on each square and roll up tightly around the chocolate. Place on the baking sheet, seam down. Cover with plastic and refrigerate for 4 hours or overnight. Refrigerate remaining egg glaze.
Remove pastries from fridge; preheat oven to 400 degrees. Brush the tops of the pastries with remaining egg glaze, and then dust lightly with sugar and bake for about 15 minutes. Better to cool them at least a bit, or the butter taste is a little overwhelming.
Sofia’s Journal
MAY 19, 20—
I’m writing this on the plane. I don’t know whether to call it the 19th or the 20th. It’s dark outside, but what time will I use? Middle-of-the-Atlantic time?
Everyone around me is asleep, and I’ve tried, but every time I’m just about to slide under, I think of Oscar, and my heart starts slamming into my ribs so hard that I feel like it might burst. I keep telling myself, over and over, at least he didn’t die, but there’s another little voice that comes after it that says, yet.
I’m not even going to entertain that thought. What he needs from me right now is strength, courage, honor, positive energy. He needs me to be the face of faith, a hand to hold in the darkness. He needs something to hold on to—his wife, his kids, one on the way, one already here.
Katie. Every time I think about her in that hellhole I want to throw up. I didn’t tell my mother what really went on, but I don’t even know how the kid survived—and part of that is my fault directly. I could see that there was something wrong with Lacey. Like more than the PTSD she was diagnosed with. War was hard on her, I get that, though it seemed like more than that. But how can a new wife