All Can Change...

Chapter 3

-- Bianca --

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I softly emerged, his scent all over me. Scent I had missed so much. Last night hadn't been all a dream. I got up quietly, trying not to wake him up.

I put myself in the kitchen. Our reconciliation deserved a special breakfast. I decided to make some pancakes. I put myself in action. While looking for a spatula, I made some pots in an infernal noise. "Damn it..." I bent down to put them back in place, but the flour bag fell from the counter, right on me.

"Damn it !"

I saw Maxime's head from over the couch. He was laughing. I couldn't help but do the same. He came to me, grabbing my hands to help me to get up. The pancakes were slightly burned. I served them, full of maple syrup.

"Sorry... I think the flour didn't wanted me to make perfect pancakes" I said as an excuse.

"No worry ! They are delicious. You should give me your recipe" He answered with a wink.

I laughed. Again. I had no clue that the sensation of fully laughing was so pleasant. It was his recipe. The one he gave me years ago.

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-- Flashback --

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I sighed while putting away the pancakes. I had tried three recipes and the three of them had only ended with debatable results. I put my nose back in a kitchen book when I heard a knock on the front door. I got out of the kitchen the moment Maxime entered the house. I quickly went back in. He joined me.

"What are you doing ?"

"Pancakes" I let out, disheartened.

"You want some help ?"

"You have work to do if you want to make me do some acceptable."

"I'm sure we can do it" He said with a smile.

He opened all the cabinets, getting all the ingredients out, while I was staring at him do so, sitting on the counter.

"Okay. So, this is a secret recipe, not a word to anybody, understood ?"

I vividly nodded while getting to his side.

"First of all, you put a cup of flour in the big bowl. Come on" he added when he saw that I had no reaction. "Do it, this way, you'll be able to make it an other time."

I listened to him, doing my best. It fell at the bottom of the bowl with a white cloud.

"Then, add a tablespoon of sugar. Yes, the big one !" he added after seeing me hesitate. "The small spoon, the teaspoon, fill it up with salt and mix well. Now, time to break the eggs."

I gave a few slight knocks against the edge of the bowl. Seeing nothing on the shell, I gave an other one, with more strength, making fly white flakes all over the room.

"I'm an hopeless case" I sighed.

"No, not at all. It needs practice, that's all."

I ended up breaking both of the eggs, then added a bit more than a cup of milk. Maxime passed me the whisk, for me to bring all the ingredients in a homogenous mixture. I added the two teaspoons of vanilla while Max was melting the butter. He told me to add a bit of chocolate chips, making the taste even more marvelous. I kept on whisking everything together, until he lead me toward the oven with the mix. He took place right behind me.

"The secret" he told me "is to pour slowly, while making light movements with your wrist. Like that, exactly."

He put his hand over mine, helping me to have the right move. Voilà. I made him taste and he assured me that they were excellent. I let out a breath of relieved. I took a plate and went to bring the pancakes to my mother, still in her bed. I knocked softly, before opening the door.