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“Ow, shit!”
Sophie heard Jenny curse under her breath yet again. This whole cooking thing was turning out to be quite the ordeal, even though they had been preparing meals together for what seemed like forever now.
She turned around to see another yolk on the floor--the third one of the day. The two of them had dedicated their day off to making apple pies with the abundance of apples they found themselves in possession of. Her boss owned three apple trees, so every week he would bring Sophie another full box of large red apples. She appreciated the gesture, but unfortunately, they weren’t horses, so they didn’t go through the apples quite quick enough on their own. Thus the idea of a pie-making day was born.
Sophie had been peeling and coring apples, as well as adding in spices and the rest of the ingredients for the apple pie fillings, much easier than Jenny’s job, which was to follow the recipes for pie crusts. Sophie would’ve fucked that up real fast. Luckily, her job was easy, all she needed to do was taste test to make sure it didn’t taste like shit. Most of the time it was fine, although she accidentally added oregano in the first batch, so they had to throw that one out. So much for labels.
Sophie put down the peeler, stretching across her girlfriend and snatching the dishrag from the sink. She bent down, cleaning up the yolk.
“At this rate, the compost guy’s gonna be able to make omelets for weeks.”
Jenny put the vinegar down, wiping the back of her hand over her forehead, “If you’re so good at cracking eggs then why don’t you try?” Jenny prodded, taking the rag from Sophie and emptying the somehow still intact yolk into the compost bag, “It’s harder than it looks you know.”
Sophie shook her head, a smirk turning up the corners of her lips, “Fine then, watch and learn Jenny,” she used the counter to help her up from her knees and dusted her hands off on her apron in a swift motion, “watch and learn.”
She grabbed an egg from the carton, shoving it close to Jenny’s face as if to taunt her. She tapped the egg three times along the edge of the glass measuring cup, until there was a decent-sized crack across the middle. Then, she pressed with both of her thumbs along the fracture, just until the shell broke in half. The yolk slipped into the cup, and she tipped the shells back and forth a bit to get the white out. She tossed the shell aside and wiped her hands off.
“There, see?” She felt Jenny’s chin resting on her shoulder, “Not that hard.”
“Uh-huh.” She could feel the confusion in Jenny’s voice vibrating through her shoulder. “You’re gonna have to show me like... at least five more times.
Sophie let out a breathy laugh, she knew that just meant that she was going to be the designated egg-cracker for the rest of the day.
“Who taught you how to crack an egg like that?”
Sophie stopped. It was an innocent question, and a valid one at that. Most people remembered who taught them how to crack an egg or measure out the flour, or at least if someone did teach them or not. In Sophie’s case, questions like these were a bit more challenging to answer. She turned around and stared inquisitively in Jenny’s eyes, as if she would be able to find the answer to her love’s question there.
Jenny must’ve realized, because she made amendments to her question, “If you don’t remember that’s okay too, you don’t have to answer.”
But Sophie wasn’t ready to give up that fast. She didn’t want to give up. Although a lot of the clearer memories from her childhood were painful, she knew that all of them couldn’t be. How could learning how to crack an egg be painful? She racked her brain, trying to sort through the jumbled memories and clear away the blotched ink into legible thoughts.
“I think…” she paused. Words were hard when it came to remembering. Jenny waited with a patient demeanour. She wasn’t the type to force Sophie into remembering, nor the type to not encourage her to remember. Jenny let Sophie remember on her own time, and offered as much support as she needed. Sophie couldn’t ask for anyone better.
“My mom?” She phrased it as a question, as if some higher power in the universe would spell out ‘CORRECT’ in giant flashing lights. “My mom used to do a lot of cooking, so maybe she taught me.” Sophie was reasoning with herself out loud as well as stating it.
Jenny nodded, but didn’t move on quite yet. The cogs were still turning in Sophie’s head.
As if a light was turned on in a dim room, Sophie’s eyes lit up. Her lips held a fond smile, “Yeah. She did. I remember my hands were all sticky afterwards because I got it all over myself.”
Jenny reciprocated her smile, wrapping her arms around Sophie’s waist from behind, “I’m proud of you.”
Sophie laid her head back on Jenny’s chest, her cheeks red and with a slight, content smile. She looked up at Jenny.
“You have flour on your nose.”