The Cake

Moist, thick, rich and chocolatey, that's how you could describe the now homogeneous mixture sitting in the bowl on the kitchen counter.

Four eggs were rather luxurious, but that's what the recipe desired. Four eggs, a pinch of salt, a dab of sugar and a whole lot of love. Baking was a love language her grandmother used to say, and baking a chocolate cake, well, that was simply magical.

Elise peeked behind her as she could feel the essence of him. He was going to be rugged yet kind. His hair would flow a chestnut brown and have highlights of cooper woven through the lush and luxurious coif. Yet, it was his eyes, those damn piercing green eyes, that would speak the truth.

Turning her attention back to the chocolatey mixture, Elise swore she could feel the warmth of his breath on that spot on her neck. The exact location that caused shivers and butterflies to fill her body. She closed her eyes and imagined how his touch would feel.

He would place his hands on her hips. Pull her closer to him. Gentle kisses constantly and forever peppered across her face. He would start at the nape of her neck, lick and flick his delicate tongue up one side, grazing his teeth as his mouth travelled up every crease and crevice, finally resting to bite and tug, ever so lovingly, on her ear lobe.

Each time she would smell the aroma of minty fresh breath. The same pleasing aroma filled the air when Elise tore leaves from the peppermint plants in her solarium. The same peppermint that calmed her nerves.

Elise turned her attention back to the batter and poured it, ever so carefully, into the glass cake pan. Glass was the best temperament for baking. Her grandmother would say. Glass must be used to seal each mixture every time.

Elise popped the cake in the oven, set the timer and turned her attention to the icing. The icing must be light, airy and not too sweet. It was the first thing anyone saw when they spotted a cake, and appearances were everything. She whipped egg whites, butter and icing sugar to the intended consistency—stiff peaks yet soft enough to yield when required.

When she finished whipping the icing, she placed it aside and closed the recipe book that her grandmother would pull out for special occasions. Back it went on the kitchen shelf, in between the herbs and the guardian fern.

She walked over to the kitchen table and poured two mugs of coffee.

"I can't wait." She heard his voice as plain as she saw the moon perched in its place among the stars. She whispered a silent whisper back and winked at the moon. She could have sworn that she saw the moon wink back. Elise shivered and hugged herself as she peered out the window into the moon-kissed backyard. The ground, covered in tiny white daisies, shimmered, swayed and peeked back at her. Their petals were waving in wonderment. Elise recalled all the nights she had spent dancing in her backyard, allowing the daisies to tickle her toes and the vibrant green blades of grass to caress her ankles. Those moments were magical, and it was amongst the daisies that she first thought of baking this cake.

The timer dinged, and Elise, with childlike excitement, removed the cake from the oven. She plopped it on a glass cake plate and sat in front of it, waiting for what seemed like an eternity for the cake to cool. Then with ease and care, she spread the thick icing across the top of the cake.

She took out two plates from the cupboard and cut two big slices, and set each piece in its position–dead center, on each plate. One portion went by one mug and the soon-to-be-filled chair, for this cake was too delicious not to be consumed.

She sat down, and with each bite of cake, she peered at the empty seat, waiting.

A bite for love, his heart.

A bite for passion, his hands, chest, legs and feet.

A bite for kindness, humility, humanity; his head, eyes, brain and hair.

A bite for the man she deserved, a man of grace, honor and courage.

And lastly, a bite for the man who would love her and treat her like no other, HIM.

He appeared, smiled and whispered the words Elise longed to hear.

"Hi beautiful, this truly is a delicious piece of chocolate cake."