Short Stories

Finding Happiness After Destruction?

Skylar

Things have been a lot different since the divorce. My kids were close to all grown up, almost fourteen years old, and that definitely made me feel my age. My husband- scratch that, my ex-husband was fucking gay, he came out this year as a surprise to all of us. Not that it was a problem, but he could have told me. He and I had split the friend group down the middle, and were just now repairing our friendship, which was definitely something else.

And I had completely changed jobs. Instead of teaching, which was my life-long dream, I quit my job and became... drumroll please... a cook. A kitchen manager, to be exact. Which was completely bizarre, even for me.

Emma and Jace thought I had gone completely insane. Ryan offered to pay for my therapist. Briana and Megan were supportive, but skeptical, as was everyone else. Don't even get me started on Christian...

"Remind me again why you're doing this?" Christian groaned, whilst scarfing down his third helping of Chicken Pot Pie. I took a sip of my wine and chuckled. "Dear fucking lord this is so good."

I dug into my second piece, moaning around my fork. Christian was right, this was. So. Fucking. Good. I learned how to make homemade Chicken Pot Pie when Ryan moved out, and apparently I made it really good.

Emma and Jace had come over for dinner, as well as Blake, Mac, Alexa, and of course, Christian. Without my knowledge, whenever Jace knew about "chicken pot pie night", he always let his favorite uncle know.

It had become an every-other-Thursday-night tradition now.

"Uncle Chris is right, mom. This is the bomb dot com. You've really outdone yourself this time." Emma beamed, using her fork to clean her plate off elegantly and with poise, the way I taught her.

"Soooooooooo goooouf, momf." Jace mumbled from her left side, letting crumbs fly everywhere out of his mouth. Definitely his father's son. I chuckled at the thought.

"Thanks, kids," I stood up and started clearing the empty plate, whatever was empty; two of the three pie dishes, Emma's plate, my plate, Blake's plate, and Alexa's plate. The remainder of the party continued dividing up the last of my delicious creation. "How does everyone feel about dessert?" I heard a flock of groans come from the table. "I made Creme Brulee" I giggled, hearing shuffles of excitement. The Creme Brulee was definitely a shared family secret between Christian and myself, but my way always ended up better. Sweet, sweet, creamy egg yolks. Yum!

"For those of you who prefer to do the work yourself, the top is coated in sugar, and I have two blowtorches to pass around. Share! For those of you who aren't masochists and want to eat your delicious yolk custard now, I have pre-torched delicacies for your enjoyment." I held a couple of trays with medium sized ramekins, and the two promised blowtorches, and started passing them out.

All was silent, with the cracking of the caramelized sugar, and the sound of people humming in delight. And, of course, the blast of the fire from the torch, hitting the sugar on top. Jace was taking his sweet time struggling to make an even layer of burnt sugar.

"Jace, do you need help?" I chuckled, scrapping a sweet, custardy bite onto my spoon and pushing it into my mouth using my tongue. Honestly, this stuff was to die for.

"No mom." He mumbled, clicking the torch again.

"So back to my earlier statement... Why the fuck are you really a kitchen manager?" Christian interrupted, pushing his bowl out of the way and looking for more.

"It's not too late to have a career change. Mine just started after my divorce." I shrugged. Chris scoffed, leaning back and folding his arms, narrowing his eyes at me.