Gabi Nolan | Easy As Cake | Fiction

Gabi Nolan cake ASEASY

She made a mistake…I rationalize, eyes tracing over the present that awaits at the foot of my doorstep.

There’s no way she did all this for you. The puppeteer of insecurity tugs at my strings and shakes my bones until they’re heavy with misplaced guilt. Lately, it seems the master has been trigger happy with their needless interference. No longer do they sit patiently behind a curtain but now stand at the forefront of my stage as they ruthlessly tangle my rickety self in irrational knots. My wooden mouth echoes their insults until I’m almost sure it's my own voice. Tepidly, I reach out. My hands grip along the sides of the plate as the crinkle of plastic wrap rustles quietly against the cool breeze of a summer afternoon. Behind me, Disbelief rears its snout. It pokes out from between my legs to investigate the foreign object as I begin to lift it off the ground. Its weight dawns on me slowly as my arms instinctively shift to carry the treasure that lies beneath its clear prison. Again, I must wonder if I’m imagining all of this. The wobble of my straining hands could only be explained by a diluted daydream. But no… After a second, my hands still struggle to lift the cake. The cloud of denial scampers away to the corners of my mind and leaves only remnants of its thick fog to scurry at my feet. While my chest tightens with a sickening worry, I take the cake inside and set it down on the kitchen table. As I slowly remove the wrapper, I am careful not to smudge the beauty beneath it. Like a bush freckled with flowers, a coat of rainbow sprinkles lays atop a plush teal blanket of stiff, fluffy, frosted wisps. The aroma leaps out from under its cage and fills my throat with an unwilling temptation as my mouth waters with a greedy hunger. Disbelief hangs over my shoulders. It whines like an impatient dog and begs that I’ll drop a slice of my expectations under the table for it to gnaw at with its blunt fangs...that maybe I’ll come to terms with the obvious mistake my friend has made…baking something so lovely for someone so unworthy… With a satisfying pluff, like cutting a piece of fabric, my knife digs down into the dessert. I take only a slice, but it’s about as heavy as three. It’ s dense with a compassion I can’t have possibly earned. Guilt takes the space in my rumbling stomach.

I must look absolutely pathetic to make her go through all this work for me... As my fork nears the plate, I see visions of the cake disappearing before me, as if the second I puncture its pillowy surface it will melt into a heap of cloud

The foul, bubbling feeling rises from my core to my throat. It stings my mouth with an acidic bitterness.

Disbelief’s yapping grows louder as it growls and snarls under the table as I dare to lean in for a bite.

You don't deserve this. You don't deserve this. You don't deserve this. You don't deserve this. I raise a piece to my mouth and sink my teeth into its soft surface. For the first time, Disbelief bites its tongue. A warm embrace hugs my chest and tumbles down my spine as it wraps my arms in a cozy sweater. While the sweet puffs of cream melt onto my tongue, it dances across the roof of my mouth like an ocean of milky syrup crashing against a beach of glittery sprinkle sand dunes. The overflow of comforting waves pours into my veins and makes a home under my skin. All around me, a honey-tinted glow outshines the overcast of dark clouds. No longer do I feel like a burden. No burden could be given something so…so unbelievably sweet…and… salty… Salt leaks onto my cheeks. It dribbles down my face and past my chin, and though my face is still red and puffy from tears, a few crumbs fall onto my plate as a grin tugs at the edges of my trembling lips. My strings are cut. I deserve this.