Glad To Be Of Service [✔]

👨‍🍳 10: Hugs and Quiches

The sizzles of oils and meats surround me when my hands pause. My eyes widen as I realize something. Shit. I have to go.

Taking off the apron, I dash back to my apartment.

"Boss! Wait!"

I halt right at the doorway. "What is it? Hurry up!"

"Fine, fine. Sign this. I need to bill out some expenses." Jacob handed me the cheque and the pen.

"Got it."

"What are you up to lately, Boss? You've been leaving early for five days straight. Is something up?" he says while I write my signature.

Got mixed up in an alternate hell and have been having a blast going home tired. Who am I to deserve a good sleep, right?

It's what I want to say but I keep my mouth shut and shake my head.

"I'll head out first. See ya tom!"

Sprinting, I return to my apartment, wash my hands, and start looking for the ingredients.

Chopping sounds fill the air in a second. I take out my homemade pie crust, the very same recipe my mom taught me.

The rising scent of heavy cream mixture with salt and pepper pervades my senses, making me reminisce a treasured memory.

Who would have thought that there is a day, my childhood has been full of hugs and kisses. I came to this world with a father who is like a pillar of strength and a mother who is very understanding.

We have a simple life but it's perfect for me. But, that damned geezer has to ruin it.

Still, even if it's just a piece of memory, Mom's sing-song voice — sounding like an angel descended on earth — is always so comforting. It feels so long ago that maybe it's just a dream I used to have, appeasing those dark nights when our life turned one-eighty.

Mom who never raises her voice can only speak hoarsely. The gentle smile remains yet it only reminds me of a wilting flower. Her body has always been fragile but not as sallow as the last time I saw her.

And this is the exact day those kind eyes closed eternally.

I round up the quiche and place it in the oven. While I wait for it to bake, I take a shower.

Several minutes later, the oven dings. It did not take me long to wrap everything up and go down to the bus station.

Slabs of stones are scattered in the area. Each has a name engraved on it with numbers below.

It's late in the afternoon but the gloomy atmosphere seems permanent in the space. It's as if the world is tinted in gray that not even the flowers can splash color to the surroundings.