Coming of Edge 12: Cake of the Patients

There was the faint taste of cake and chocolate in the air as Mél stared at the poster of Yu-Yun and Aneli kissing. She sat on her bed and felt furious and sad at the same time. The memory of her personal success felt distant. The pride and relief of her proving a second time that she indeed had powers, dissipated with each day. It was only Moise anyway. And maybe he had just pretended? Maybe he wanted only to find special kids so badly that he believed anything. Maybe he was just an idiot. Freaking out seeing the perfectly normal river every time now. Panicking when he was served noodles.

The moment when he had shown her the video of that girl online crept up in her memory. He was all giddy and obviously very proud. He felt so validated and righteous, that jerk. Mél was sure it was not about the video, it was because the girl believed in him. Boys.

She wanted to feel joy and fun and exhilaration. She did not want to feel miserable. Right now she longed for the orgasmic rush of her powers again, but she still didn’t know how to activate them. She checked her phone because she could not come up with something else. No new messages, no new calls. Gisele had her tennis training, Inés did something else.

She wondered if she should share her secret with her best friends. They had seen her with Moise and inquired what was going on. Were they dating? And if yes, had they already kissed? But why Moise? Benjamin was a valid choice to fall in love with, but Moise was boring, at least he had been until the crazy. Mél had lied to them, that she took private lessons with him.

She felt like bursting. The room was too small and too familiar. She checked her phone again. Nothing. She could feel her heart beating. She wanted to cry but could not. Everything felt unbearable.

She abruptly rose from her bed and stomped out of her room, being instantly hit by the intense aroma of freshly baked chocolate cake. She made her way down the small staircase and into the kitchen. Her father was there, reading and drinking coffee. On the kitchen table stood the cake, the family’s favorite. She realized she wanted some, to shovel rich and heavy cake into her mouth until it was too much. But then she would have had to deal with her dad.

‘Only one piece, Mél.’
‘It’s still hot, you have to wait.’
‘The cake is a dessert for later.’
‘We eat the cake together with everyone else.’
‘What’s up with that attitude?’
‘I understand being a teenager is not easy, but you have to show respect.’

Condescending, restricting, ignorant.
The pressure increased and she fetched a glass, filled it with tap water and drank. Then another. She realized that she felt alone. She did not want to be alone. Another glass. It seemed to her that she had just refilled the water tanks for her tears. Would she burst? Collapse? Erupt? Can you disappear when nobody sees you?

“Mél?”

‘No father,’ she thought. ‘I cannot deal with you now.’

“Do you want some cake? It’s still warm.”

She heard the clutter of cutlery, plates being fetched from a cupboard. She felt confused. Realizing the smell of the cake was still there, the invitation to distract herself from her inner turmoil. There had to be a catch. There always was one.

She slowly turned and a generous piece waited at the table for her. Her father had resumed reading while eating some cake himself. She shuffled over, sniffling slightly and sat down. She took her first bites slowly, feeling how it overwhelmed her senses. The aroma of the chocolate was intense and encompassing, filling her nostrils completely. The crust of the cake felt satisfying against the roof of her mouth, instantly replaced by the squishy softness of the inner cake. Her senses were flooded by sweetness, a slight saltiness and tinge of bitter. Whatever had been on her mind before, for the moment it was replaced by cake.

“Do you want another one?”

She looked up at her dad. He smiled at her but there was something else, she could not place. She nodded and he put another rather large piece on her plate.

While she wolfed it down, he resumed his reading, occasionally sipping from his cup. She burped.

He looked at her and smiled again genuinely. She was sure there was sadness in his eyes, too. Somewhere in between the wrinkles.

“You know, you can have more if you want,” he said, nodding towards the cake. His voice was soft and caring. She looked at the cake and realized that she had eaten half of it already.

“Uhh, what about Mom and Louis?”

“It’s okay. I can make another one,” he assured her calmly.

“Maybe a small one?”

He cut her a smaller piece and put it on her plate as well. She deliberately tried to eat it slower and save the experience.

“Mélanie. Would it be okay for you if I read some lyrics from a very old song to you? I’d love to share it because it helped me many times when things were difficult for me.”

Mél was not sure if she could deny the inquiry. It was her father after all. She was not sure if she did want to listen.
“I guess,” she responded.

Again, that sad smile. Then her father recited:

“If there were no rewards to reap.
No loving embrace to see me through.
This tedious path I've chosen here.
I certainly would've walked away.”

His voice was grave and shaky. A single tear rolled down his left cheek. He brushed it away.

“I just.” He stumbled with his words. That was rare. “I just wanted to tell you that I see you. I see that it’s hard for you and I wish I could be of more help to you. I feel so useless as a father sometimes.”

He looked at her then at his plate.

Mél did not know what to do. Her belly felt extremely full and it was totally irritating to see her father crying. She did not understand why he had quoted exactly those lyrics but that they were full of defying, struggling sadness which matched her own.

She stood up, walked to her father and hugged him. It was good to be that close, it reminded her of her childhood. There had been a time when this was normal.

“I love you, papa,” she whispered.

She let some seconds pass until she started feeling uncomfortable.

“I’ll go back upstairs, papa.” She was almost out of the kitchen before she remembered her manners.
“And thanks for the cake. It is really good.” And then she added, “which song is it?”

He beamed at her. “I’ll send you a message.”

When she got back to her room, she opened the window to let fresh air in. Her phone chimed and she jumped on her bed to check it. Inés had sent an excited message, teasing her and Gisele about a boy she went on a date with. And her father had sent her a link to an ancient music video.

She would watch it later. She had a group call to make, hopefully Gisele was done with tennis for today.

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