The Chocolatier's Wife (14 page)

Thank
you
for your letter detailing your exploits with the pirates. I
had
heard
rumors of
the
battle,
but heard
no
word as
to how
you
survived it. I
have
been
quite worried, I
own,
and
am so happy
to know you
came
through
unscathed.
Really,
I
wish they would ask
my
permission before
they
begin
poking holes
in my future intended.

Yours, eventually,

Tasmin

The
place
looked
more
like
a
foundered
ship
than the
interior
of
a
chocolate
shop.
In fact
it
was
only the
sweetness—a
faded
aroma
of
the
cocoa—to
remind
one of what it was meant to be at all.

She stepped inside and closed the door. Two large windows, made up
of
diamond
panes,
framed
the
door.
Randomly
a
pane
would
be
a
different color,
a
red,
or
a
green,
or
a
blue,
which
made
puddles
of
color
on
the
polished dark
wood
floor. The
walls
were
partly
paneled
in
dark
wood
and
in
some places
the
panels
only
rose
half
way, leaving
pale-green
painted
wall.
In one
of
these
spaces
a
mural
of
a
ship
at
sea
as
seen
from
an
exotic
land
had been
painted.
Round
tables
and chairs
had
been
shoved
against
one
of
the walls,
and one
of
the
tables
had
been
shattered,
the
top
splintered
in
half. The
split
was
clean
enough
so
that
repair
was
possible,
she
hoped.
At
least the
glass
panes
of
the
display
case
and
the
main counter
were
untouched. She
ran
her
hand along
the
smooth
green
marble
that
topped
the
counter, and sighed. The stone had been a good choice; it radiated comfort.

The
kitchen
was
an
even
greater
mess.
In
the
middle
of
the
room sat William’s
huge table, topped with slate, on
top of which lay the contents of his
now
empty
cab
i
nets.
She
picked
through
and
stacked
the
molds, some looking like
cats,
or
sea
shells,
or
little
castles,
and
stepped
over
the
pans and
pots
and
pestles
and
stones
and
bowls
and
serving plates
enough
to suit
any
chef,
to
reach
the
pantry
beyond
the
wall
of
racks, a
dry
sink,
and a
stove.

She
righted
a
bucket
and
knew
already
that
every
scrap
of
chocolate had
been
confiscated,
but
still
she
opened
the
door.
The
front
had
stores, a
bit
of
smoked
ham,
bread
so
stale
it
had
been
transfigured
to
stone,
and other
food
stuffs
she
could
not
bear
to
look at
for
feeling
bad
at
the
sheer waste,
plus
stacks
of
plates
and
other
china.
At
least
the
place,
as
evidenced by
the
bread,
was
fairly
dry
and cool.
She
opened
the
door
at
the
back
and saw
empty
shelves
where
William had
keep
his
c
o
coa.
Someone
had
been careless
with
a
jar
of
cocoa
powder:
there
were
a
few
bits
of
crockery and cocoa between the stones of the floor.

She lugged her things upstairs to the extremely plain apartment. William
had
a
t
a
ble
and
a
pair
of
chairs,
a
clothes
chest,
several
book
cases, and
a
bed.
The
shelves
and
table
were
covered
with
books, maps, papers, oddities
in
jars,
dried
oddities,
and
oddities
in
boxes.
The
chest
had
his initials
burned
in
the
top,
and she
knew
it
had
been
with
him to
sea. The table,
chairs,
and
shelves
looked
worn,
second
hand.
She
couldn’t
find a space
for
William’s
book,
so
she
set
it
aside
for
later,
much
more
inte
r
ested in
the newest and
largest piece of furniture.

Sh
e
sniffe
d
th
e
pillow
s
o
n
th
e
bed
;
the
y
an
d
th
e
blanket
s
wer
e
clean enough
,
bu
t
smelle
d
o
f
se
a
sal
t
an
d
woo
d
smok
e
an
d
caca
o
bean
.
She smoothe
d
th
e
pillow
s
gentl
y
wit
h
a
sligh
t
smile
.
Th
e
be
d
wa
s
b
y
fa
r
th
e
nices
t
piec
e
o
f
furniture
;
th
e
rope
s
wer
e
tigh
t
an
d
new
,
th
e
carving
s
fresh
,
an
d
the polis
h
unblemished.

Sh
e
sa
t
o
n
i
t
an
d
looke
d
a
t
th
e
canop
y
an
d
curtains
,
whic
h
wer
e
th
e
exact, lus
h
colo
r
o
f
blu
e
tha
t
she’
d
onc
e
sai
d
i
n
a
lette
r
t
o
hi
m
wa
s
he
r
favorite
.
Sh
e
la
y
bac
k
an
d
stare
d
a
t
th
e
canop
y
an
d
realize
d
thi
s
be
d
ha
d
bee
n
bough
t
b
y
a
ma
n
wh
o
wa
s
thinkin
g
tha
t
marriag
e
woul
d
b
e
ver
y
soon
,
an
d
tha
t
the marriag
e
wa
s
importan
t
enoug
h
t
o
hi
m
tha
t
h
e
pai
d
quit
e
a
bi
t
t
o
hav
e
a
ne
w
bed
,
wit
h
al
l
ne
w
be
d
clothe
s
tha
t
sh
e
migh
t
like
,
rathe
r
tha
n
buyin
g
somethin
g
secondhan
d
t
o
tid
e
hi
m
over.