Chapter 3 I Love the Cake You Make
Evelyn
“Ma’am, where should we put these?”
“Oh, yes, please put them in the kitchen.”
Outside, Marcus rushed through the front door with pure excitement written all over his face.
“Son, don’t run!” I called after him.
That warning clearly meant nothing. He was already exploring every corner of our new home, moving around with endless energy. Watching him that happy made a smile spread across my face as I followed him inside.
“This is amazing, Mom! Is this really our house?” he shouted.
Pride warmed my chest.
“Welcome to your new home, Marcus.”
The living room looked exactly the way we had imagined it.. clean, bright, and completely new.
“I can’t believe it,” he whispered. “I feel like I’m dreaming.”
His hand slipped into mine, and I kissed it gently.
“You’re not dreaming, my love. This is real. This is our home now. Yours.”
Like a butterfly, Marcus moved from room to room without stopping. The bathroom earned a quick inspection before the kitchen completely stole his attention.
“Mom, the kitchen is so beautiful!”
A laugh almost escaped me.
“Yes. See? I still can’t believe we got this house for that price.”
Water rushed from the faucet as Marcus tested it with fascination.
“Mom, they say water and electricity never go out in New York. Not like our old village.”
The workers continued carrying couches and the TV inside while Marcus confidently told them where everything should go.
Then one of them called from outside.
“Ma’am, could you come here please? Where should we put this table?”
Stepping outside, I pointed toward the right corner.
That was when the strange feeling hit me.
Across the street, someone was watching.
A young man stood in front of the neighboring house with a cigarette between his fingers, staring at me with sharp, unreadable eyes.
What was his problem?
Why was he looking at me like that?
“Ma’am?”
The worker’s voice snapped me back to reality.
“Oh, yes. Sorry. Please bring it inside. Marcus will tell you where to put it.”
The moment he walked away, my eyes drifted back toward the house across the street.
The man was still there.
“Mom, what’s wrong? Why are you standing here?”
Marcus’s voice came from behind me.
Quickly hiding my tension, I turned and smiled.
“Nothing, sweetheart. Come on, let’s go inside. We have a lot to do, and later we’ll go greet the neighbors.”
A groan immediately left him.
“Mom, did you check my college papers? And you can greet the neighbors alone. I’m tired.”
That lazy attitude made me sigh.
“Of course, you lazy boy. That was the first thing I did. Tomorrow is your first day at college.”
My eyes narrowed slightly.
“And what exactly did you do to feel tired? Never mind. Let’s go inside.”
Not long after, the workers finally finished setting up the larger furniture. The house itself was ready now, though organizing our personal belongings would still take time.
After paying and thanking them politely, silence finally settled over the place.
Starting fresh mattered to me, especially with the neighbors, so making a simple cake felt like the right idea.
The kitchen supplies were limited, but enough for now until I could go shopping later.
Once the cleaning was done, ingredients slowly gathered across the counter.
A cup of oil.
Baking powder.
Two spoons of sugar.
Three cups of flour.
A cup of warm milk.
Soon, the batter was coming together while “Stereo Love” played softly in the background.
I loved that song.
Maybe I’d gotten older, but part of me still felt young. Childish, even.
Sometimes, it honestly felt like that younger version of me had never disappeared.
Before I realized it, the spoon had turned into a microphone in my hand while I imagined myself as some famous Broadway singer.
Then came “Dangerous Woman.”
The music got louder. So did my singing.
Dancing around the kitchen while mixing the batter with one hand suddenly felt more important than acting my age.
“I’m seriously tired of dancing!”
At least the batter turned out soft and perfect.
By now, Marcus was completely used to my kitchen chaos. Instead of complaining, he only watched with a small amused smile.
Without warning, my thoughts drifted toward the first time I met my ex-husband.
Why now?
I wasn’t sad.
I didn’t miss him.
Still, regret lingered heavily in my chest whenever I thought about how much youth and beauty I had wasted on someone who never deserved any of it.
The only good thing that man ever gave me was my son! the light of my life.
Without Marcus, surviving that miserable marriage would’ve been impossible.
“Okay, Evelyn,” I whispered to myself. “Don’t get sad now. Don’t ruin this moment.”
A slow breath escaped me before the mixing continued until the batter turned perfectly smooth.
Soon after, the cake went into a baking pan and straight into the preheated oven.
A good cake always needed steady heat.
“Alright, now we make the cream.”
Footsteps approached the counter.
“Mom, why are you making so much?”
While preparing the cream, I glanced over at him.
“I’m making cake to greet the neighbors. We should build good relationships here.”
A small piece was cut and held toward his mouth.
“What do you think?”
Marcus chewed slowly before nodding.
“It’s really good, Mom. As always.”
Warmth spread through me at the compliment.
“Did you finish organizing your room?”
A dramatic sigh followed.
“Yeah. Finally.”
“Good. That’s how I like you.”
His smile widened.
“Save me my share. You know I love the cake you make.”
That made me laugh.
“Even if you didn’t say it, I’d save the best pieces for my little boy.”
“We’re done now.”
The cake boxes were placed carefully into a small basket before I looked back at him.
“So, aren’t you coming with me?”
Marcus sighed again.
“Mom, I don’t want to. Who even greets neighbors these days?”
Disbelief crossed my face.
“Are you saying I’m old-fashioned?”
Laughing, he nodded.
“Yeah.”
Then he quickly added, “I’m kidding, Mom.”
A light hit landed on his back, earning an even louder laugh from him.
Four cake boxes later, I stood near the door ready to greet the nearby neighbors.
“Marcus, I’m going. Are you really not coming?”
“No, Mom. Go alone.”
Giving up, I stepped outside.
And instantly froze.
There he was.
The young man from across the street stood in his yard watering the grass as if he belonged there naturally.
His presence caught me completely off guard.
Slowly, his head lifted.
Cold eyes met mine.
It was our first real eye contact, yet the intensity in his gaze felt sharp enough to strip every thought from my mind.
Shirtless.
Strong.
Dangerously attractive.
“Damn,” I whispered under my breath.
No matter how hard I tried, my eyes refused to leave the hard lines of his chest and muscles.
