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“Okay. You can do this.”
Malcolm told himself out loud as he opened the heavy pink book that Luisa had sworn was “the bible of French patisserie”. He found the page he had bookmarked a week ago and stared once more at the recipe.
It was officially the most complicated list of instructions he had ever seen. He carefully made sure he had everything he needed, mouthing each one as he got to them.
“First step, weighing. Baking is very serious. So we have to be precise.” He glanced at Sunshine, making sure she was listening.
Even if he knew she probably wasn’t comprehending what he was saying. Still, she stared at him with her beady eyes. It was enough for him to tell himself he wasn’t talking to thin air.
He took a deep breathe to try to calm his shaking fingers. Precision was not his thing usually. But he wanted to do something special. Something grandiose. But not the usual money-infused grandiose. Like an helicopter tour of the City. Or privatizing a restaurant. He thought of both. Discarded both.
He knew Dani wouldn’t like him throwing money like that.
At least not now. He vowed to himself he would get around to it.
And anyway, he had a feeling if it wasn’t him, then his mother would certainly insist on a display of richness the moment she learnt of the relationship. Maybe even a picture in the papers or something.
Which made him extra glad they had managed to keep the secret about their evolution from friends to lovers.
If he was honest with himself, he still sometimes wasn’t sure if it had truly happened.
Focus, he told himself firmly.
He looked back at the recipe and double checked he had prepared everything.
“Okay. Step by step.”
He hummed to the music spilling from his speakers as he carefully followed the book’s instructions.
A ping from his phone interrupted him while he was pouring his preparation into the mold. Thankfully he managed to spill only a little of it. He cleaned it away and checked his phone, finding a text from Dani telling him she was leaving the Courtroom.
She had spent the day there to give her testimony on a vice case she had been involved with. He knew she hated court days. Thus, the baking.
He didn’t bother answering knowing she would be driving but instead cleaned the counter. He couldn’t put the preparation in the oven immediately if he wanted to get the timing right.
Dani let out a thankful sigh as she finally parked her car besides Malcolm’s building. The day had been long and the drive back from the Courtroom even longer thanks to not one but three car crashes on the way. She sometimes wondered what was wrong with people and driving.
She put on her coat, took her bag and stepped on the walkway, cursing when her left heel got stuck in it. That was part of the reason why she hated court days. The expectation to dress up was both stupid and annoying. But even more necessary when you were a young black woman and a cop.
She didn’t even wait to be in the loft to take of her damned shoes but instead did it holding on the handrails to the steps leading to the loft. She had to admit that having a boyfriend with a cleaning crew that cleaned the whole building came with its perks.
Her steps were silent as she climbed the stairs, reaching for her keys. It was still a bit weird to have her own keys to Malcolm’s flat. But she liked it. She like the feeling of being part of someone else’s live. To her biggest surprise.
She opened the door to soft music and the sugary smell of something baking. She smiled. She should have expected Malcolm to prepare something for her. He kept treating her with small attentions that both warmed her heart and annoyed her. She had told him a million times that he didn’t have to keep doing all this for her. She would still love him without the random dinners or chocolates or flowers or breakfast in bed.
“Hey you.” She said, walking behind him where he was standing next to the oven.
He jumped slightly before turning towards her, grin firmly in place.
“Hey.” He kissed her. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Took off my shoes downstairs. Something smells good.”
She tried to take a peek into the oven but he stopped her.
“It’s a surprise. You’ve got time to change before it’s ready.”
She rose an eyebrow at him.
“Okay mister Mysterio.” With a kiss she went to the dresser and changed into more comfortable clothes.
She was just finished taking off her make-up when she heard the oven timer go off.
She arrived back at the kitchen island in time to see Malcolm’s shocked expression, his mouth dropped open and his eyes confused.
“Come on then, pull whatever it is out of this oven.”
She saw Malcolm blush and, with a very disappointed sigh, put a plate of lumpy partly liquid... Stuff on the counter.
“Hum... Malcolm, darling... What... What is that supposed to be?”
He opened and closed his mouth a couple times.
“It... A Soufflé. It should be a Soufflé.”
She repressed a laugh even as she felt shocked that he remembered she loved Soufflés because her mother made them for every celebration.
“Why does It look like a boiled-over cheesecake?” She managed to ask without laughing.
Malcolm looked around himself with a frown.
“I have no idea.” He finally answered despondently.
His obvious chagrin about his failed attempt made her walk around the counter to hug him.
“Well, you know the saying. The Soufflé is not about the Soufflé. It’s about the recipe.”
Malcolm blinked at her.
“Did you just quote Doctor Who to me?”
She shrugged, kissing him for good measure.
“What can I say? We spent far too much time binge-watching obscure British shows.”
He still looked sad.
“I really wanted to make this for you.”
“And I appreciate it. But Soufflés are some of the most difficult preparations. You should ask my mom how many failed attempts she had to suffer before perfecting her recipe.”
She pulled Malcolm away from the disaster in his kitchen.
“You could even ask her to teach you how to make a Soufflé. I’m sure she would love telling you.”
Malcolm blushed as she made him settle on the couch and nested on his side.
“Mothers don’t usually like me all that much. Just so you know.”
“And I’m sure she’ll like you.”
He gaped at her for a long time.
“Does that mean... Does that mean you actually want me to meet your mother.”
Dani sat back up with her eyes rolling up.
“Well, if you keep being such an idiot maybe I’ll think back about it. But otherwise, yes. Of course.”
Shock and panic made his eyes widen once again.
“I... I...”
“Relax Malcolm. It’s not for tomorrow. But I think we should start thinking about telling our families, don’t you?”
Malcolm just nodded, obviously a bit overwhelmed.
“Good. Now, how about we order some food. I’m famished and, despite all your good will, I really don’t think that Soufflé of yours is edible.”
Her boyfriend let out a small, slightly shaky laugh but obeyed.