Christmas At The Café. Rebecca Raisin

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СКАЧАТЬ place most certainly is not for sale!” I yell, indignant.

      His eyes widen. “But Joel said…”

      CeeCee storms over. “You go back and tell that nasty piece of work this kinda carry-on ain’t gonna wash with us! Go on, get.” She shoos him away. He takes one look at her and spins on his heel.

      She turns to me. “This ain’t gonna stop, Lil, till he gets his way.”

      “I’ll call Mr Jefferson back. But I’m not going to let him bully me into paying, Cee. I’m just not.”

      We’re distracted as Charlie runs through the door out of breath. “Daddy said you were making Easter eggs today!” I glance at CeeCee, who in a tacit wave of her hand knows instinctively not to discuss what just happened in front of Charlie. We lock eyes for a moment longer; I can tell CeeCee’s still reeling from Joel’s latest attempt to intimidate me. I mouth the words, “It’s fine.”

      CeeCee purses her lips, and pulls the little girl into her arms. “Wanna help us make some eggs?”

      Her cornflower-blue eyes widen in excitement. “Yes please! Daddy bought me an apron and everything.” She opens up her pink backpack and pulls out a brown apron.

      “Would you look at that?” Cee says. “It’s got gingerbread men all over it. Your daddy sure knows how to buy gifts all right.” We giggle, thinking of the shrilling turkey and the manic bunny. CeeCee helps Charlie fix the strings of the apron, and sets her up on a stool.

      “So, Lil’s gonna temper the chocolate,” CeeCee says, “which is a fancy way of saying she’s going to melt it. Now give me a minute here to read this recipe.” She plonks her glasses on the bridge of her nose, while she reads. “Oh, this is gonna be fun! Says here, we can pipe in white chocolate first to make little patterns in the molds, like dots or squiggles, then, once that sets, we coat with the dark chocolate. They gonna look pretty as a picture.”

      I heft up a big bag of dark chocolate buttons, and cut it open. The rich scent of cacao hits me, and it takes all my might not to grab a handful and start eating, no matter that my overfull belly screams in protest.

      “Lil needs to set up a saucepan with an inch or two of water and wait for it to simmer. Then she gonna fill a big metal bowl with the dark chocolate buttons atop, so it acts like a bain-marie.”

      Charlie crinkles her nose. “What’s that?”

      “Kinda like a bath with a bowl on top.” Charlie looks a mite confused at Cee’s description, but shrugs her shoulders and watches our every move. Following CeeCee’s instructions, we wait for the water to heat.

      “Ready?” I say to them as I add the chocolate buttons to the bowl.

      Charlie ogles it as if it’s something magical. “I’ve never seen so much chocolate,” she whispers, awestruck.

      CeeCee cackles. “That bag almost as big as you!”

      I stir the molten chocolate, making sure to hold the bowl so it doesn’t drop into the water underneath.

      “That smells like heaven itself,” CeeCee says. “I’m gonna melt a tiny bit of white chocolate so we can pipe it into the molds. You can decorate the eggs however you want, Charlie.”

      She drags her gaze from the gooey pot of chocolate and claps her hands. “Really? I’m going to do love hearts!”

      “Sounds perfect.” I smile.

      We work quickly. I check the temperature — it’s almost at the right heat. CeeCee’s done in no time and sets up the piping bags and molds on the bench. She wipes the oval-shaped molds out with a paper towel, which will help make the chocolate eggs glossy when they’re set.

      With oven mitts on, I take the bowl of lusciously liquefied chocolate off the saucepan and put it between us on the bench. CeeCee’s used piping bags to swirl thin strands of white chocolate in the molds, which have set. Charlie tries her best to make hearts but they look more like scribbles. She sticks her tongue between her lips as she concentrates.

      “You’re doing a great job, sugar.”

      She beams. “Now what?”

      CeeCee says, “OK, we give it a minute to set, then we lightly brush in the dark chocolate, a real thin layer, and when that’s dry we fill the molds up with chocolate and tap so there ain’t no air bubbles.”

      Charlie takes a brush and watches us before attempting her own eggs.

      “Real thin, mind.” CeeCee stands behind her and holds the mold so she can brush the first layer over the hearts. “Now you ready for the fun part?”

      Charlie puts the brush to her mouth and paints her lips with it. “I can’t help it!” she says when she notices us staring at her mouth, which is coated brown as if she’s wearing lipstick. CeeCee hoots. “You keep that brush just for your eggs now.”

      We spoon in the chocolate to completely fill the molds and then tap the sides.

      “Sounds like a horse gallopin’ to the finish line!”

      I laugh with CeeCee as I survey the bench; we’ve spilt chocolate all over it and it dries quickly in all sorts of obscure dribbles.

      “Here comes the messy part.” I rip off a layer of baking paper, and spread it on the clean end of the bench. We laugh as we upend the molds and watch the excess chocolate fall out like lava, leaving only the thin shell. Charlie immediately dips her finger into turned-out chocolate.

      “They look perfect already,” CeeCee says, admiring the even, half shells before she puts them in the fridge to set.

      We get through three more batches of chocolate eggs, some tiny ovals, some huge as gridiron balls, before we decide to take a break, and sample some of our creations. Charlie hugs us before tottering back to Damon’s shop. Not before taking a handful of treats as she leaves.

      “I’ll make us a couple o’ gingerbread milkshakes to go with our chocolate — what do you say?”

      I groan in mock protest. “I can see this little fad adding a few inches to my hips.”

      CeeCee harrumphs as she mixes up our drinks. “You too skinny anyways.”

      “Pfft. You would say that even if I was as big as a barn.”

      CeeCee dips the milkshake glasses into honey, then coats the rim with gingerbread crumbs before filling them up. She mooches over and hands me a glass, and we flop to the sofa. I take a big gulp, and close my eyes at the sheer deliciousness of it. The ice cream makes the drink thick, it’s spicy from the ginger, and sweet from the gooey treacle mixed through.

      CeeCee smacks her lips together and says, “Glory be, that about as good as a cuddle from yo’ mamma.”

       Chapter Six

      “That’s the prettiest thing I ever seen.” CeeCee tilts her head, and stands back to get a better look at the window display. We’ve added СКАЧАТЬ