Chocolate Reality (16 page)

“Hmmm, lasagna. How can I say no to that? Do you want me to grab something for dessert?” I asked her. I love my mother’s lasagna.

“No need, I already made a chocolate cake. Go have your bath and then come on over. Make sure you turn off your phone during your bath.” she told me. My mom knows me so well.

I laughed. “I was just about to do that when you called.”

“Well then, what are you doing still on the phone?”

I shook my head. I often wonder about my mom. She’s definitely a unique individual. Good thing she has my father around to keep her feet firmly on the ground.

I manage to scoot out the kittens from playing with the toilet paper in the bathroom and begin filling up the tub. I always keep a large selection of bath items in a basket on the cupboard. Vanilla, coconut and strawberry are the essential scents that I have right now, and every so often I like to add a mixture of different scents. The scent that I use all depends on the mood I am in. With the phone turned off, and bubbles in the tub, I light the candles I have in the bathroom and go to find the latest book that I am reading. No chocolate for me tonight – I need to keep room for the lasagna and cake. So much for that diet I wanted to start. Guess I will have to start after the party is done.

*****

I arrive at my parent’s home just in time to see a florist van pull up in front of the house. As I walk up the pathway I see my mom is waiting at the door for me holding a large arrangement of flowers in her hand. I see her casually looking at the card and then placing that card in her pant pocket. She smiles at me as I walk in.

“Those are beautiful flowers mom. Who are they from?” I asked her as I bent slightly to smell the bouquet.

My father walks up behind me, places his arm casually around my shoulders and asks the same question.

“Who sent you flowers dear?” he asked her as he tried to see if there was a card to read.

“Oh you know, just a secret admirer.” Mom announced as she smiled and gave my dad one of those secret looks shared between couples.

My father wrinkled his forehead as he tried to think.

“Secret admirer? Who would be sending you … oh … a secret admirer.” he said with a hint of secrecy in his voice.

All right, now I’m intrigued.

“Why do you have a secret admirer Mom? I asked her.

“Why does anyone have a secret admirer dear?” she asked me in a faraway tone as she walked into the kitchen. I just gave my father a look; he shrugged his shoulders and then proceeded to walk into the living room where I could hear the low tone of the television.

I listen for a few seconds and then hear the common gunshots of a western show being played. I smile, knowing that some things never change. You’ll always find my mother either in her kitchen or her garden, and my father watching his cowboy movies when he is home.

I follow my mom into the kitchen. She has pulled a chair up to the counter to use as a stool to grab one of her many vases from the top cupboard.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I asked her as I grabbed the chair to put away once she stepped off.

“Just tell your dad to turn the television off. Dinner is on the table.” She informed me as she placed the arrangement on the kitchen island.

As we all gathered at the table, I saw that my mom outdid herself yet again. Hot lasagna cooling to the side, garlic bread fresh from the oven and homemade Caesar salad.

“This looks delicious Mom.” I told her as I began to fill my plate.

“I just hope you like it. I wanted to spoil you a little bit. You’ve had a lot on your plate and I’m sure dealing with a lot of issues lately. I just wanted to take care of my little girl.” Mom told me as she reached for my hand.

I stared my mom in the eyes. She was holding my hand and had a maternal look in her eyes. When I glanced over at my dad only to see him staring down at his plate, I knew.

“You told her.” No sense in asking. He looked as guilty as a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar.

“Your father didn’t have to tell me anything. Do you honestly think I wouldn’t have figured it out? It might have taken me a while, but a mother always knows her daughter’s heart. I knew you were the one to call off the wedding. You were too calm and defensive of Jude to be the jilted bride. Yes, your father confirmed it this morning, and then Nancy called me this afternoon.” My mom admitted to me while she continued to hold my hand.

“Mom,” I sighed, “what did Nancy have to say when she called?” I should have known that this was more than a simple dinner invitation.

“Oh you know Nancy. It takes a lot for her to apologize, but she won’t back down if she feels she has made a mistake. She just said that she was sorry for allowing something so trivial as our children’s problems to get in the way of our friendship. I told her that as mothers our children always come first, and that our friendship never deteriorated, it was just on hiatus for awhile.” Mom explained.

“So that means … what exactly?” I asked.

“Well, we are going out for coffee sometime next week. I’ll let you know so you can reserve a table for us. Now, enough of all this nonsense; just enjoy your dinner.” Replied my mom as she patted my hand and focused on her food.

“But …” I began. My father gave his famous “harrumph” before I could say anymore. That was his way of letting me know to let things alone. Taking his advice, I enjoyed my food and the knowledge that my mom has always been there for me even when I didn’t realize it.

I helped my mom clean up the kitchen after dinner while dad went back to the living room to watch more of his Western shows. Mom and I worked silently beside each other washing dishes and putting food away. I was trying to work up the courage to say something about what was casually mentioned at the table when my mom turned to me.

“Now Wynne. I’m only going to say this once, and then we’ll consider this whole topic closed, okay? It’s taken you three long years to admit to your father and I what really happened that day in the church. I wish you had felt confident enough to come to us before now to tell us the truth. It hurt my heart to know that you didn’t trust us enough with the truth. We would have supported you no matter. But as it was, you left us in the dark and let you father hold a grudge against a man that didn’t deserve it.” Mom said to me. I started to apologize but she cut me off.

“Now I figured out awhile ago that Jude wouldn’t have left you that day if it weren’t for something that was important. I knew you were still in love with Richard, and I also knew that you were not willing to admit that to yourself. I just wish you had come to me. Now, your Father and I have had a long talk, many times actually, about all of this. He wouldn’t believe me until he heard it from your mouth. I’m not saying this to make you feel guilty. I love you. You are the daughter of my heart and my blood. I just want you to know that we are always here for you, no matter what. You are not alone, no matter how high you like to build the walls around your heart.”

I went over to her and gave her a big hug. By this time, both of us had tears streaming down our faces. Every once in a while it is nice to be reminded that I don’t always have to be the grown up, that I can be the daughter and just soak up my parents love.

“You’re right Mom. I should have told you guys from the beginning. I was afraid of being a disappointment to you.” I confessed to her.

“Oh honey. When will you realize just how proud of you we are. You are such a gift from the Lord to us, and look at all that He has blessed you with. You will never be a disappointment to us.” Mom told me as she held me by the shoulders.

“Now, it’s time we put this all behind us, and celebrate with chocolate cake.” Mom declared to me loud enough so my father could hear.

“What are we celebrating?” Dad shouted back from the living room. I could hear the squeak of his chair as he stood up and began walking back to the kitchen.

“Life, love and new happiness” My mom declared to him as he walked into the kitchen and placed his arms around her waist.

“Any excuse is a good excuse, when it comes to chocolate.” Dad declared with a twinkle in his eye. And people often wonder whom I inherited my love for chocolate from.

Armed with chocolate cake and hazelnut flavored coffee, I sat down at the kitchen table and spread out all the details of the party for tomorrow night. I brought my book with the cut outs of colors and decorations that I like, and I could hear my mom sigh as she reviewed my plans.

“How I ever brought up a daughter as organized as you are, I’ll never know.” She shook her head.

“Not everyone likes the ‘fly by the seat of your pants’ arrangement like you, Mom.” I told her. My mom has a tendency to live her life with the assumptions that everyone else knows exactly what she is thinking, and that everything will come together the way it should without too much effort on her part.

“Oh shush you. I like what you have done, and it looks like you have all your ducks lined up in a row.” She encouraged me as she pursued all the information I had laid out for her to see.

“As long as everyone can help out in the way they agreed to, it should be fine.” I said to her. This was a gentle reminder of her promises to help with desserts and to decorate the room in the church.

“I already have a crew set up to meet at the church Friday after lunch. Everything will be fine.” mom said as she walked over to her ‘to do’ board and began to read me off the names of ladies who would help to set up the room. I felt a sense of pride as I heard the Latte Ladies names come up. I can always count on them to help me out.

Realizing just how late it had become and feeling reassured that at this point everything that I could have done is done, I thanked my mom for dinner and cake and prepared to leave. Armed with all my papers, a few Tupperware containers full of lasagna and chocolate cake, I was just about to walk out the door when my mom stopped me.

“Wynne, you won’t forget about your date Friday night, will you?” she asked me somewhat hesitantly.

“No Mom.” I sighed. “I haven’t forgotten. Can you have him just meet me at the church though? I plan on going over early.” I asked her.

“At the church? I already gave him directions to your house.” She whined to me while she wrung her hands. Oh-oh, not a good sign.

“Mom, meeting at my house just isn’t going to work. Besides, I don’t even know this man. I think I would feel more comfortable meeting him for the first time in a public place. Please, can you rearrange whatever plans you made for me?” I asked her.

My mom stood there for a few moments studying at the ceiling. I could hear her muttering a little bit while she was trying to formulate a new plan.

“Actually, I think meeting at the church is a great idea.” she said to me.

“Great. I appreciate that mom. Please remember though that this date is only for one night – no other promises Mom.” I reminded her.

“Oh I know. No promises. But I don’t really think that will be such a big deal once you meet him face to face.” She said with an assurance to her voice that I’m not too sure if I really like.

“Can you give me any hints at all about this mystery guy?” I asked her hopefully.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” she said giggling.

“I can see you’ll be difficult. Thanks again for dinner Mom. I love you.” I said to her as I gave her a quick hug goodbye.

“Good night darling. Sweet dreams honey.” My mother said to me as she closed the door.

Sweet dreams. Wouldn’t that be nice? I wonder if Richard has written me back. I certainly wouldn’t mind dreaming about him tonight.

With that in mind, I suddenly remembered that I still had to respond to his email. He asked me about a dream I recently had. Do I dare tell him? Perhaps I can be a bit cryptic in my reply and let him read between the lines. I’m not sure if I want to bare my soul to him so soon in such a personal way.

Upon opening the door to my home I could immediately smell something burning. Oh no. Quickly walking towards my kitchen, I notice the smell becoming stronger. I can hear the kittens running around in the kitchen and I make a sudden stop at the doorway of my kitchen. I just cannot believe what I am seeing.

I must have forgotten to turn off my coffee machine, so that explains the burnt smell. But the mess that awaits me I can only blame on my two small housemates. Both flowerpots that were arranged on my kitchen counter had been knocked over, with soil all over the place. I can see tiny cat prints all through my kitchen from them walking through the dirt. The Tupperware of muffins that I had left on the shelf obviously had not been closed tightly enough, and the kittens managed to figure out that if they knocked the container onto the floor, the lid would pop off and they could have a feast. Unfortunately, they haven’t quite learnt to use a broom yet, and pieces of muffin are ground up into my kitchen rug and then all over their faces. My cup of pens is knocked over, the neat pad of papers that I had beside my phone are no longer so tidy and it appears that the knitted hand towel I had hanging from the oven door is now one long piece of thread that does not resemble the towel it once was.

This is not the sight that I wanted to see when I came home. I had envisioned a quiet house filled with softly playing jazz music. I would listen to my phone messages and then spend some time on the computer. I would then grab a good book and settle into a warm cozy bed and relax before drifting off to sleep.