Cece Writes A Book [COMPLETED]

Chapter 2 - "I'll change the locks."

Cece heard footsteps on the stairs just as she finished arranging the pieces of bacon next to the pile of scrambled eggs. The two plates of food sat on summery placemats and matching clothe napkins Cece had dug out of storage just for this morning's breakfast.

"Good morning!" she sang as Elliot entered the kitchen.

"Morning," Elliot mumbled until she saw the feast awaiting her on the table. Her eyes grew big as she moved closer to see everything Cece had set out.

"What? No ice cream for breakfast?"

"The thought crossed my mind," Cece admitted, "but I wanted to start this day right."

She spoke in a determined tone, trying to convince herself that with enough self will she could keep her writer's block away. "Tea?"

"Yes please!" Elliot said, taking a seat at the table. "If you writing in my office means a gourmet breakfast in the morning then you can write in my office whenever you want."

"You said I could write in your office whenever I wanted when you first rented it," Cece said.

"That was last year. But taxes are up and I will now be asking for a small payment," Elliot explained, taking a bite of bacon.

"I already have a key," Cece countered.

"I'll change the locks."

Cece laughed loudly. "You're far too lazy to do that."

"Fine," Elliot said, "I'll let you use my office as long as you make me breakfast whenever you feel like it. It's my final offer."

"Deal," Cece said, placing two cups of tea on the table and joining her sister.

"What's in there?" Elliot asked, pulling a covered basket towards her. She opened it to find toast and happily took a bite before she took a closer look at the bread. "Cece, I thought we ran out of bread."

"Hmmm..." Cece hummed, suddenly very focused on applying jam to her piece of toast.

Elliot set down her bread as she examined her sister. "Tristan texted us last night that he finished the bread."

Cece finally looked at her sister and could see the concern in her eyes.

"Did you make this bread this morning?" Elliot asked.

Cece shrugged, like making bread from scratch wasn't that big of a deal and for her, it wasn't. Baking was a side-effect of her writer's block.

"How long have you been up?" Elliot questioned.

"Is it wrong that I wanted to make you a special breakfast?" Cece asked. "You are letting me use your office."

The truth was Cece had been up before the sun, which in New England in the summer meant some time before ‪5 AM‬. Yes, she had baked and yes, she hadn't just stumbled upon the placemats, she had been organizing the linen closet, and yes, all three of these things were familiar side-effects of her writer's block, but it was just a coincidence.

Cece returned to eating her breakfast, trying her best to ignore her sister's worried look. But it started to grate on her nerves and she could feel her anxiety rising.

"Stop!" she finally barked, giving Elliot a warning look. "I am fine. Everything is fine. Malcolm has left the country but that doesn't matter because I am going to write at your office and it's going to go super great and I won't hit any problems and everything is going to flow and I am going to finish this stupid book without my stupid muse without any trouble."

Cece glared at Elliot, daring her to counter Cece's positive affirmations.

Elliot just held up her hands in surrender. "Sounds good to me," she said and returned to eating her toast.