The lingering scent of chocolate hung in the air. The scent was so faint you hardly realized it was chocolate at first. It smelled more like molasses. I don't know how this happened. I had meticulously followed instructions, put the brownies in the oven, and set the oven to the prescribed temperature.
Baking, I realize now, is a lot like marriage. There is a lot of work involved, and at the end, you are either left with a wave of fulfillment or awful sadness. I was filled with both.
My brownies sat in a row on the table, and I hoped they would spark communication between us. I untied the blindfold from Bobby's eyes so he could see what I had done for the both of us. It took us a few minutes to make it from the front door to the kitchen, with me taking slow, hopeful steps.
"What's this?" Bobby said.
"It's our anniversary," I cheered. "Happy Anniversary!" Gently, I scooped up a brownie and held it to his lips.
The brownie was warm but Bobby didn't open his mouth. He looked at me, a hint of hope in his eyes, and said, "Anna, we need to talk."
Aeisha Santos [Manila, Philippines] enjoys reading Japanese comics and listening to independent bands. She compiles mix cds for her friends and metaphysical boyfriend, a blonde college student named J. She writes about her life as an underachiever, her desire to globetrot, and her eccentric family members. She is eighteen years old and lives with her mother and sister.
© 2009 Aeisha Santos. Original for CCF. Santos grants CCF first electronic rights for one month; CCF may archive the material indefinitely and include it in an eBook anthology.
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