This Wind Me Up, One More Time freebie story was the result...
The air was getting cooler. Time to start making more cold weather dishes to bring to Nathalie and Grace’s home. Perhaps a pie?
No, Maia would bring the recipe and the ingredients. This way Grace could watch her make it and be a part of the baking. It was good training for her, learning how to make a real pie with a buttery crust rather than the bready ones which were always served in the pub downtown. Christine Weaver really ought to have known better. Ah, well, she might make good scones and apple brownies, but she didn’t necessarily know anything about pies. Not like Maia’s mother had.
“I used to roll the dough out at Isabeau’s house all the time,” her mother confided once to a young, wide-eyed Maia. “We’d talk about all sorts of things when she’d get out the flour, the butter, anticipating whatever I needed while we sorted out the world’s problems. I sometimes thought everything could be solved if you spent time in the kitchen.”
She smiled a little, yet the wrinkles around her eyes deepened. Memories of happiness could almost be like sadness when they were gone forever. Maia learned this whenever her mother spoke of Isabeau Morisot.
Now here Maia was going off to Isabeau’s house to spend time with her daughters. To make pie with her daughters. The pattern repeated itself once more with another generation.
Well, this particular pattern wasn’t a mistake. Maia closed her eyes, imagined Grace cocking her head, watching her hands knead pie dough, until Nathalie drifted over to the doorway, hair like a coppery cloud around her head, a tiny smile playing upon her lips.
Something swelled within her chest, yet eased at the same moment. Being observed by the two sisters made cooking so much meaningful.
Besides if Maia hadn’t shown up with food, Nathalie would have simply picked some vegetables in the garden and roasted them. Not that roasted vegetables weren’t tasty, but she wanted the Morisot sisters to have a chance to try some of the things her own mother made for her.
Like a bacon and cheese pie.
Many of the dishes Maia prepared in their kitchen left Nat as wide-eyed as her little sister. Neither of them had ever tried spaghetti carbonara until Maia made it for them. Noodles and cheese, however, had brought a glimmer of recognition to those luminous pupils encircled by golden-green irises.
The latter had been something Maia’s mother had made for years. She must have made it with Auntie Morisot as well. The ghost of their mother’s relationship lingered over the three of them like a shadow at times, but it could be a comforting shadow. It gave them a connection, a shared family history. It made the three of them almost like family themselves.
Family. That swelling sensation accompanied by the easing of the tension in her chest returned whenever she thought of that word in connection with the Morisots. She wasn’t sure if they were family, but she wanted them to be.
If only wishes could come true. If only she had been truly Iama the Terrible, an enchantress, someone who could make that wish come true.
Maia could only hope Nathalie and Grace felt the same way.
Want to get to know Maia, Nathalie, and Grace better? Here are links to their story; Wind Me Up, One More Time...
Mischief Corner Books/Shenanigans Press: https://www.mischiefcornerbooks.com/wind-me-up-one-more-time.html#
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