sofia-bach

[sofia-bach]

What are you currently watching?

Sofia doesn't have much time to watch series or movies, in all honesty. She has tried starting several shows, like Gilmore Girls and New Girl (all shows about girls!), and every time she tried, she couldn't get past the fourth or fifth episode because she's been so busy, she can't really pay attention to it. The last piece of media Sofia has watched was her favorite movie, The Adventures of Robin Hood from 1938, once more.

#. ANSWERS { i’m so ashamed of the fuss i’ve made }

[sofia-bach]

Talk about someone who changed your life?

There is only one person that comes to mind for Sofia, and that has to be Guinevere. Her introduction to the Bạch family was a definitive before-and-after situation, one in which life was uneventful and every day was more or less the same. And then Guinevere arrived, and everything got upended. Sofia doesn't hold it against her stepmother though, of course. It's not Guinevere's fault so many changes had to happen ever since she married Sofia's father. After all, it was a domino effect of unfortunate events, and it would be silly to call Guinevere responsible for them all.

#. ANSWERS { i’m so ashamed of the fuss i’ve made }

[sofia-bach]

starter for @doryunderthesea

Everyone who knew Sofia (and they weren't many, in all honesty) knew that she liked the outdoors. Most of all, she enjoyed spending time in the cool pleasant shade of the forest; but she also saw the appeal of sitting by the lakeshore, sunbathing by herself, listening to the sounds of nature, splashing her feet in the water. She was glad that the weather had begun to change, that the days were longer and warmer, that there was no need to stay by the fireplace to avoid freezing or to be covered by layers and layers of sweaters and coats every time she wanted to step outside.

She was still with her mind on the past winter when she realized she wasn't alone by the lake like she had thought. She blinked, a bit afraid of having intruded into someone's personal space (it had been a while since she had visited the lake, after all, and maybe someone had claimed that part of it?) but didn't move yet.

#. dory blue #. sofia bạch

[sofia-bach]

Mother's Day

The seeds and breadcrumbs Sofia sprinkled around her barely had a moment to touch the ground before a flock of birds flapped their wings and pecked at the generous offering of food. Sofia smiled and chuckled, engulfed by a whirlwind of color and movement. Slowly the birds gathered by her feet to continue their meal. Sofia emptied her breadcrumbs bag and sighed. She had already finished her daily morning chores, washed the breakfast dishes, and the sun was shining bright on that beautiful Saturday spring morning.

The red binoculars had been gathering dust on her desk, Sofia thought. She had been too busy with her babysitting job, which had replaced her weekly studying and moved it to the weekends, effectively eliminating the time she usually reserved to walking in the woods to birdwatch.

That day, though, Sofia was free.

The afternoon would be spent baking, she was sure of that, but on that morning, she would actually spend some time with her favorite, most neglected pastime, one which was perfect to welcome the new, warmer season. Some of the birds, American robins, white-throated sparrows and European starlings, stayed in the garden, tweeting and fluttering about, but a few left already, satiated. Sofia gazed at those ones flying away towards the clear blue sky. She thought of the path in the Redwood forest she liked the most, and quickly calculated how long it would take her to go on a relaxed stroll and come back before it was time for lunch...

But then –Sofia was startled –she saw Guinevere watching her from the study window, half shadowed by the heavy curtain. Guinevere kept staring at her stepdaughter for a couple seconds more, and then gestured at her to come back inside.

Sofia crossed the front garden pathway, away from the sunshine, through the shade of the porch of the Orchard House.

Guinevere was dressed elegantly, as always. She was checking her makeup on the mirror by the entry hall just as Sofia walked in. Her stepmother kept fixing her hair and turning her head to admire herself from different angles, keeping her eyes glued on her own reflection, as if she hadn't even noticed Sofia was there at all.

"An online purchase might arrive today. Receive it if I'm not here when the delivery comes."

"Yes, of course."

Finally, Guinevere looked back at her. She stared at Sofia for a brief moment, her blue eyes feeling like a perfectly subtle, incredibly thin needle pressed right in the middle of Sofia's brow. Then she walked past her, heels tapping quietly on the entrance hallway carpet, left the house and closed the door.

No matter, Sofia thought. It was Mother's Day tomorrow, after all, and even better still if she could bake her present of cookies early on, in case she made a mistake and needed to redo them. There was also the matter of making an appropriate package for them –maybe even a card. The project had her excited.

A whistling song reached her from the open window, and Sofia turned to look at the handful of birds that were still by the front garden. She smiled. Maybe the next week.

Just in case, she didn't listen to her music that day. Sofia needed to be able to hear clearly if the bell rang. She wondered what Guinevere's purchase was. Maybe she would be able to guess by its size and shape when it got there. Or maybe Guinevere would hide it, so as to keep it a secret from her stepdaughter. In any case, Sofia hoped the goods arrived undamaged.

So she stayed inside, waiting for the package, and decided to go ahead into the kitchen and bake the sugar-free banana cookies with the recipe that Tiana had sent her.

First of all, she checked she had all the necessary ingredients. She turned on the oven for preheating, copied the instructions on her phone on her recipe notebook, and tied the apron around her waist. The sunlight streamed in through the kitchen windows, giving it a faint glow. Sofia realized she had never given Guinevere a Mother's Day present, since she wasn't her mother, but her stepmother. Could it be that that was why she behaved so coldly towards her? If Sofia had known so, she would have given her a gift, a beautiful gift, a long time ago.

Sofia mashed bananas, separated egg yolks, sifted flour, weighed butter, chopped walnuts. Once she put them in the oven, the kitchen was nicely filled with the sweet warm smell of cinnamon and vanilla. Baking was an activity she loved nearly as much as birdwatching. It allowed her to focus completely on one task, and keep herself happily occupied. She used to gift cookies to her classmates at the beginning of each school year, and even if it didn't change the fact that she was still woefully shy and didn't have friends at all, seeing their thankful faces brought her joy, nonetheless. Besides, Sofia was well aware of Guinevere's sweet tooth, how much she loved the little treats her stepdaughter baked every once in a while. Even if she didn't seem thankful, Sofia knew she was. She rarely showed it, but she knew that Guinevere appreciated all she did. If Guinevere did all Sofia did for her, she would definitely appreciate it, after all.

In any case, helping was its own reward.

After preparing herself a quick sandwich lunch, her timer soon went off. While the cookies sat ready on the wire rack to cool, Sofia decorated them with grated coconut and the chopped walnuts. She tasted one and was glad to know that they were just as wonderful as Tiana had told her.

She spent the afternoon sitting by her desk, alert for any sudden bell ring coming from downstairs, while measuring and cutting and gluing a spare piece of cardboard she had in her bedroom, making it into a lovely box which she painted a soft lavender color. While it dried, she searched for her botany book, and using that as a reference, Sofia painted white and pink lilies with her watercolors on a rectangle of card stock paper, and wrote 'Happy Mother's Day' in her best cursive. She even found a white silk ribbon in a drawer, which she occasionally used to tie up her hair. In the end she decided it would be better suited to be used for decorating her little lavender box, tied neatly in a bow.

Once the cookies had cooled properly, Sofia placed them carefully on the tissue paper she had put inside the box, three lines of pretty cookies ready to be gifted. She was quite happy with the present she had assembled, and wished her stepmother was as happy with it, too.

Only when Guinevere arrived back home, when the sun was already setting and it was time for her afternoon coffee (she wouldn't have her tea, since she would have to stay up late that night) did Sofia realize the package hadn't arrived yet.

That Sunday, before leaving for the library to study, Sofia put the box of cookies in Guinevere's office, on the big dark mahogany desk which had used to belong to her father, and now was where Guinevere did most of her work. She had considered handing it herself later that afternoon, once she came back, wanting to see her reaction to it, her wonder and, hopefully, her delight. But in the end, Sofia had decided against it, preferring for it to be an earlier surprise.

Just as she walked in after returning from the library, Guinevere was walking out of the study.

"It's time for tea, isn't it?"

"Yes, I'll get right to it."

Guinevere shot Sofia another piercing look and went upstairs to her bedroom. Sofia watched her for a moment, just in case she turned around and made another request, and went into the living room towards the kitchen.

She stopped when she saw a sudden change, a small new addition to the decorations of the room.

There, standing still and looming on the chimney mantel, was a taxidermy black-shouldered kite, its snowy-white wings half outstretched, its eyes red as blood, gripping a small field mouse in its stiff golden talons.

#. SELF PARAS { you don’t know what i’ve been through }

[sofia-bach]

Edward Burne-Jones (1833–1898), coloured drawing from ‘Letters to Katie, 1883–1889’

#. MUSE { with a smile and a song }

[sofia-bach]

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~ End

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"Yes, citrus is my go-to with seafood, really. Now that I think of it, I rarely try other flavors with it," Sofia answered. "Oh, I've never cooked crab! It looks so difficult... Just like cooking lobster."

The kitchen was bright, white with a few black and silver accents, and, as it should be, impeccably clean. Sofia had liked how it was before Guinevere had remodeled it, less blindingly white and a bit warmer and cozier. It was alright, though, and as long as she could navigate through it to get everything she needed and get dinner done in time, she couldn't really complain.

Sofia opened the oven and poked the salmon with a fork, checking on the texture. Perfect. She pulled the tray out and brought it to the kitchen aisle, carefully pulling the tin foil aside to properly see what she had cooked. "Would you like to try some?"

#. sofia bạch #. tiana powell

[sofia-bach]

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"Yes, citrus is my go-to with seafood, really. Now that I think of it, I rarely try other flavors with it," Sofia answered. "Oh, I've never cooked crab! It looks so difficult... Just like cooking lobster."

The kitchen was bright, white with a few black and silver accents, and, as it should be, impeccably clean. Sofia had liked how it was before Guinevere had remodeled it, less blindingly white and a bit warmer and cozier. It was alright, though, and as long as she could navigate through it to get everything she needed and get dinner done in time, she couldn't really complain.

Sofia opened the oven and poked the salmon with a fork, checking on the texture. Perfect. She pulled the tray out and brought it to the kitchen aisle, carefully pulling the tin foil aside to properly see what she had cooked. "Would you like to try some?"

Tiana glanced at the bag of French books and felt powerful gratitude—for her strong friend who held fast to her positivity, for her enlightening visit to the Orchard House, and for the golden moments that were yet to come…all made richer by the words they’d spoken just now, about love and truth. Tiana knew with her whole heart that Sofia was ready for wonderful things.

“Oh, so Guinevere is an asparagus person!” Tiana said with surprise and interest. A person’s taste in food was something that Tiana loved learning more about. “So tell me more about your seafood recipes. Do you often go for citrus, or are there other flavors you like to use as well?” Tiana, standing and zipping her backpack with the laptop stowed inside, took the bag of books from the coffee table and looked back at Sofia. “And would you want any more recipes from my collection? I’ve got a mean lemon pepper crab recipe you can use for salads, soups, whatever you want.” Tiana smiled.

#. tiana powell #. sofia bạch

[sofia-bach]

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"Thank you. It's been a while since I've spoken French... Not since high school, I believe." She looked down at the bag with books. They would be missed... But there were online videos to brush up on her French, and now that she could have someone to talk to, relearning the language would be so much easier.

"Oh, yes, please, come along if you'd like. I was just about to check on it," Sofia said as she stood up from the couch. "I'm making honey lemon salmon with a side of roasted asparagus. Guinevere loves asparagus." She wouldn't say so, but she was happy that the subject was changed to something she knew well.

Tiana felt that Sofia’s father should have tried harder for their relationship, just as Sofia’s stepmother now needed to step things up. Being a wonderful person didn’t also mean being a perfect person. When Sofia said she thought there had been too little of Mr. Bạch to miss, Tiana heard that Sofia missed the person she believed Mr. Bạch to have been—kind and generous, if overworked. What Tiana wanted to tell Sofia was that Mr. Bạch was probably just like that. He was only additionally a man with problems of his own, problems that prevented him from making his mark. Tiana’s paternal grandparents had been like that. To move past your incomplete image of these people and love them for who you knew they were…that took some time. Sofia deserved the time to come to terms with her dad’s life and death. If only her stepmother were able to agree.

Tiana heard Sofia’s doubts about doing enough. She herself didn’t feel as if she were doing enough each day. But when Sofia said she felt grateful all the same, Tiana felt a pang of affection for this woman who tried to put on a brave face when the world seemed scary. Sofia would find her way soon, Tiana just knew it.

Sofia didn’t want her life to change. Tiana nodded and smiled softly. Tiana herself had grappled with the same problem at the age of eighteen, when she’d headed to culinary school alone and found things changing that she didn’t like changing on her. But Tiana knew that change was good, and only good change in your life could prove that to you so you could embrace the unpredictability of life. Sofia needed something great in her upcoming future to give her the confidence to live well. Tiana knew that Sofia was making the best of a bad situation; Tiana would try her best to help her with that, so when the time came for Sofia to make one positive change, she’d know that she herself had been the heart and soul of the process leading up to it.

Tiana nodded at Sofia’s suggestions for her own authentic living. Telling the truth more… Tiana was the sort to let white lies slip out at her Third Street shift—“thanks for making that for me”, she’d say to a fellow chef, when really what she’d want to tell them would be, “I had that handled, and you can learn how to do it my way next time if you watch me make it myself.” She’d keep Sofia in mind the next time she encountered a tricky spot at work.

Tiana grinned at Sofia’s perfect French. “You’re great with that pronunciation. I don’t even know French yet, and I can tell that.” She took another ginger snap from the plate. “If you need to check on dinner so your stepmother doesn’t get worried, I can wait here. Or I can come with you and find out the food making that delicious smell. It’s your call!”

#. sofia bạch #. tiana powell

[sofia-bach]

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Once there was a silence, filled only by the music that kept playing, Sofia finally noticed she had been holding her breath. Her head was throbbing. Her stomach was turning. She breathed in, forcing herself not to shut her eyes again, not make it that obvious that she was overwhelmed.

"Your parents sound like great people," Sofia said quietly, admiringly. But she didn't understand what Tiana, talking about their relationship, meant by strange. Or... Well, she sort of did. She identified with that, even if she might not fully get what that literally meant.

Sofia looked down at the teacup in her hands. "My mother was an angel. And my father was also a hard worker... But I rarely saw him. He was such a hard worker, we almost never saw each other. But I know he loved me. He always made sure I had everything I needed, everything I wanted. But I never knew what he wanted. I think he might have been a sad man, deep inside... Living without his angel, and unable to see the daughter he loved." That was, at least, how she could interpret the situation. "I... I wished I missed him." Sofia shut her eyes again, and grit her teeth. "That was a lie. I do miss him. I loved him. It's just that... Sometimes it feels like there was too little of him to miss." There were so few memories, and he was so barely mentioned anymore, his presence almost completely overshadowed or scrubbed out from that house... Most of the time Sofia couldn't even remember his name.

"I'm... I'm not very good at games," Sofia chuckled nervously. Games of chance, that is. She would think life, if anything, was a game of chance. "So much of my life feels out of my control. I do what I need to do, study, work, help around, I do all that I can... But I sometimes fear that is not enough." She giggled with lips shut tight. "I don't usually think like that, though. I've been very lucky, I know that, and I try to always be thankful for what I have." Just being able to live in such a great house, study at college, be well fed, have a job to earn her own money, even find time for friends... Yes, she was very, very lucky indeed.

Sofia managed to stare back into Tiana's warm brown eyes for a little while, but in the end just had to look away. "I... I am me," she said slowly, unsure of how to express herself, careful not to say anything that might offend Tiana, since this was clearly something she was passionate about. "And... And I'm okay with cleaning. I am okay with her supporting my decision. I... I don't... I don't think that I..." Was all of this true? It is, Sofia told herself. She liked being helpful. She disliked being a bother. And she knew that, eventually, Guinevere would truly like her, and express her gratitude, and show that she really did care about her. Someday. "... I don't think I want things to change." That wasn't all true. She shouldn't lie. But it was the most direct way to express her feelings, without its complicated intricacies and contradictions.

In all honesty, Sofia had no idea how to respond to that. Still, she had to try. "I... I was taught to always tell the truth, unless that truth was rude, uncomfortable or inappropriate. So I suppose... I suppose that, I think, maybe always... Telling the truth? Being... Being loyal to how you feel?" That was part of speaking her truth, was it not? She was being redundant. "I... I like that. How helping others is also a way of growing."

Finally she managed to smile. "S'il te plait, merci à toi."

Tiana noticed when Sofia stopped smiling, when her eyes shut with something Tiana couldn’t place. Tiana felt fortunate that Sofia was as friendly as she was; still, Tiana wished that there were something she could do to show Sofia that Tiana reciprocated that, especially in moments like these.

Tiana felt that Sofia was interested in her parents, so she shared a good bit more than she usually did: “My dad and mom were good people, plain and simple. Past that, though, there was a lot of emotion in our relationships with one another that I didn’t understand as a child. You know, Black families are like that. Deep, deep relationships, but if you were asked about the specific descriptors, the terms, you couldn’t say a thing. My dad was my hero. He worked harder than anyone I had ever, and still have ever, met. I know how I felt about him now—he was a poem man. When I say that, I mean he’s like the people the poems talk about. He tries so hard, and he loves so strangely—that’s a poem thing. That strangeness was in his smiles, his sense of humor. It made me recognize him as a man who didn’t have everything figured out. My mom was a strong, devoted woman who said what she thought when she thought it. She still acts like that with me, and I’m glad when she does because, like I said, a person’s truth is the most important thing they’ve got. She used to say that when I was older, I’d be a lot like her. That confused me a lot, made me upset, angry. I wanted to be my own person, and a sliver of me just wanted to be the girl version of my dad. But I know what she meant now. She wanted me to know that the beauty I saw in her, I could see in my own life, if I only tried. That’s her to a T. And that’s me, too. So I was right about that comment, too.”

Tiana took a deep breath. “And they’re with me all the time,” she continued, looking distantly at that record player. “They’re in my walk, my talk. They tell me things when I doubt my choices. They pray with me when times get horrible. They’re my guides, both of them. They’re the people I was meant to learn about this life from, and they’re the people I want to make proud with every new day that comes my way. They don’t make sense to me, they never have. But they’re the family I deserve. And I deserve a whole damn lot. They’re my gift.”

Tiana knew well that Sofia’s familial bonds were different than hers. But she wanted to make Sofia feel as if she understood Sofia’s point of view. “You’re in a different path in life,” Tiana said to her at last. “You’re walking in a different road, seeing different scenes in this thing we think of as a movie sometimes. It’s not a movie. It’s a game. It’s the game you play yourself, the game you can win if you just make the moves you want to make. I know it sounds cliche. It is cliche, because people make these things cliche when they pretend they know the reasons behind them. But life is a game, your moves are your own, and the secret is that you’re always one move away from your new life, your new happiness, your happy ending. No one will make a move for you. Because it’s you who’s the expert, you who’s wise in the ways that your game desperately needs. You win that game of life when you say, ‘I can do this thing.’ And I mean that with all my heart.”

Tiana looked into Sofia’s eyes. “Sofia, you’ve got a real tough family situation. I can see that. Anyone who’s ever had a conversation with your stepmother could see that, and that’s the God-honest truth. But you can change that. Tell her you don’t want to clean the whole damn house. Give her those sugar-free banana cookies and say, ‘I’m doing this for us. I’d like it if you did something for us, too.’ Make her see why you’re going into social work, because earlier she said to me that she supported your decision but what I wanted to hear her say was, ‘I agree with her decision.’ Be loud. Be forward. And be you, by all means, Sofia. That’s my piece, but I can say more if you want it.”

Tiana thought about Sofia’s words, that Tiana might not be true to herself after all. With the decision she’d made regarding her work at Third Street fresh in her mind, she agreed with Sofia. “I’m not true to myself,” she said, nodding. “And this is actually how I grow. Helping other people with what ties them down, then seeing about doing the same thing myself. So now that I’ve talked all about speaking your truth and living your own life,” she said, chuckling, “it’s time for me to start behaving that way myself. So. What’s one thing you think I could do to live more authentically? I’d love to know.” She smiled. “Merci pour tout ce que tu as fait.”

#. sofia bạch #. tiana powell

[sofia-bach]

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Sofia didn't smile anymore when she remembered Ruth. It was only for a short time that she had been her nanny, but Sofia remembered her yelling and chiding, her shouting orders and gripping her arm, how everything she did seemed to be wrong. Sofia shut her eyes tight, feeling a sharp pain in the back of her head at the sudden memory. She focused on letting it pass through her, like a cloud drifting across the sky and over the sun.

She nodded in silence, thinking about what Tiana had said. She didn't find anger funny at all; if she could, she would make it so that nobody was ever angry, and that were never any reasons for people to be angry in the first place. And, regarding showing her emotions, she considered disagreeing—but decided against it, since she didn't want to risk offending her. Sofia had been taught, ever since she was little, that there were certain ways of expressing emotions that weren't proper, that weren't correct.

"What are your parents like?" Sofia asked her, genuinely curious. "I didn't know mine very well. I would like to think they were very nice, but I hardly have anything to go by." She felt like Tiana had a good relationship with her mother and father, even if she got angry at them occassionaly. She would have liked to have such a trusting, honest relationship with Guinevere; but there was always something invisible, like a very thin sheet of glass, obstructing the development of a true bond between them. Was she too bothersome, too insistent? Was her stepmother too cold, too avoidant? Perhaps a combination of both. Regardless, she didn't know the way to change it.

Sofia frowned. "Are you not true to yourself?" Even after so many years, she still had difficulty separating who she thought she was, and who she was to others. For her, it seemed, at the end of the day, one and the same. "Why are you not?" Weren't surfaces just expressions of what they held inside? If she was nice to someone, didn't that simply mean she was nice?

"Merci pour tout ce que tu as fait," Sofia said as her reply, with utmost care of her pronunciation. "'Thanks for everything you do.'"

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"I don't think I am," Sofia chuckled bashfully. "But thank you." She listened carefully to Tiana's ideas. "I think peach Linzer cookies could be good, yes." She had made them so many times, making a big batch would surely be no problem. Maybe she could even teach them to Tiana, so they could bake them together and save time.

"I don't have many friends," Sofia answered simply. "I think I might have one... Or two." Human friends, that was. She liked to believe the birds she fed every morning were sort of her friends, too. "People's graduation! That's a great idea. I'm sure students would love that, too."

Slowly, a big grin was drawn in Sofia's face. "Oh, yes! She would love it. She loves fruit, especially cherries, blackberries, blueberries... And apples, of course," she said. A couple professors asked her once or twice if she or her stepmother ever became tired of apples; and, to their surprise, Sofia always answered no. "I take great care of the presentation. I once read that how food looks is a third of the pleasure of eating." She made a mental note to later ask Tiana when her birthday was, so she could take note of it and bake her a well decorated cake, probably with some honey in it.

"Yes, sure," Sofia said, and took the piece of paper with the information, giving it a glance, cutting a smaller piece of it and writing her own email address. "Ruth, what a lovely name. I had a nanny called Ruth. She wasn't nice, but her name certainly was." It was strange, to have someone's phone number. She imagined sending Tiana her favorite recipes, and perhaps sending each other messages in French, like a secret shared code. Maybe she would even be interested in knowing about the birds that were Sofia's friends, that which Guinevere didn't seem to care to know.

"Yes, she is very polite," Sofia nodded. "But she is often a bit... Well, prickly, um, irritable, when she's interrupted. I think she knew that, since you were a guest, she couldn't really show it." Truly, Guinevere wasn't one to be really furious often, or at least, not to show it; she was simply, well, irritable. "She used to get angry a lot more easily, when I was younger. I think we were both learning how to be around the other, back in the day, when we were first living together." Sofia gave thanks that they had left those days in the past. "I will let her know how happy you are with how she treated you."

#. sofia bạch #. tiana powell

[sofia-bach]

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"I don't think I am," Sofia chuckled bashfully. "But thank you." She listened carefully to Tiana's ideas. "I think peach Linzer cookies could be good, yes." She had made them so many times, making a big batch would surely be no problem. Maybe she could even teach them to Tiana, so they could bake them together and save time.

"I don't have many friends," Sofia answered simply. "I think I might have one... Or two." Human friends, that was. She liked to believe the birds she fed every morning were sort of her friends, too. "People's graduation! That's a great idea. I'm sure students would love that, too."

Slowly, a big grin was drawn in Sofia's face. "Oh, yes! She would love it. She loves fruit, especially cherries, blackberries, blueberries... And apples, of course," she said. A couple professors asked her once or twice if she or her stepmother ever became tired of apples; and, to their surprise, Sofia always answered no. "I take great care of the presentation. I once read that how food looks is a third of the pleasure of eating." She made a mental note to later ask Tiana when her birthday was, so she could take note of it and bake her a well decorated cake, probably with some honey in it.

"Yes, sure," Sofia said, and took the piece of paper with the information, giving it a glance, cutting a smaller piece of it and writing her own email address. "Ruth, what a lovely name. I had a nanny called Ruth. She wasn't nice, but her name certainly was." It was strange, to have someone's phone number. She imagined sending Tiana her favorite recipes, and perhaps sending each other messages in French, like a secret shared code. Maybe she would even be interested in knowing about the birds that were Sofia's friends, that which Guinevere didn't seem to care to know.

"Yes, she is very polite," Sofia nodded. "But she is often a bit... Well, prickly, um, irritable, when she's interrupted. I think she knew that, since you were a guest, she couldn't really show it." Truly, Guinevere wasn't one to be really furious often, or at least, not to show it; she was simply, well, irritable. "She used to get angry a lot more easily, when I was younger. I think we were both learning how to be around the other, back in the day, when we were first living together." Sofia gave thanks that they had left those days in the past. "I will let her know how happy you are with how she treated you."

“Those sound like the perfect holiday treat!” said Tiana with a grin. “You’re creative.” Tiana nodded when Sofia said she couldn’t come up with a Mother’s Day cookie. Tiana probably couldn’t, either, now that she considered the options. “I would love it if you made any of your favorite cookies for this bake sale, if we decide to go ahead with that. These ginger apple snaps? The perfect option. Or we could try those Linzer cookies you usually do for Valentine’s Day, except using a peach jelly or something that’s got a fun spring color. What do you like to make for your friends’ birthdays? Let’s do that, if you have a go-to cookie for it.” Tiana was beaming with excitement. “I really like this idea, Sofia. We have to do this bake sale. If not for Mother’s Day, then for something else this spring. Maybe for the end of the college year? Or for people’s graduation on the day the big ceremony happens?”

Then Tiana had a very good idea.

“Or,” she said, and she took a breath. “Or, if you’re up for it, we could make low-sugar cookies for the bake sale, have it be for Mother’s Day, and surprise your stepmother with a dessert she can actually try.” Tiana looked up at Sofia, a little anxious for her reaction. “This would be a great way to get her a taste of the stuff you’re making, and I really do think she’d eat a low-sugar cookie from you. They’re not easy to make, because you have to replace the sugar with something like pumpkin or banana. But if they turn out good, they’re extraordinary. I’ve had a banana cookie with absolutely no sugar in it, if you can believe that. My…old friend from culinary school made them once.” (He’d been top of the class for a reason. The great DeShawn Nelson had had the magic touch with vegetarian and diet-friendly foods. If only he’d had the magic touch with personal communication.) “You won’t find many recipes on Google. That’s because they’re so hard to make presentable. But with the way these ginger snaps look… You could do it. Sofia, I want to give you that recipe my friend made his batch using. He’d want you to try.” Tiana opened a folder on her little laptop titled “Culinary Sch Recipes” and clicked on the banana sugar-free cookies. “This is all you need. Do you think these cookies would be fun for you to make? And would you be able to give your stepmother something without sugar like this? I know some people who opt out of sugar also avoid eating fruit.”

Tiana agreed that they should insert a question about allergy control into their survey. She said, “I’ll make sure to do that. And once I add that to the list, I think our survey will be ready to upload. Can I think over how I want to phrase that and send you the survey tonight? Then the faculty will have time to review it.” She added, “My email address is ‘Tiana Ruth Powell forty-three at Gmail dot com.’ And so you know…” She gave Sofia her phone number, too, writing it on a page out of her notebook she’d tugged out of her backpack. “Where’s the best place for me to send this survey to you?” Tiana felt like she and Sofia had gotten a lot accomplished. Not only would the local restaurants be overjoyed to get information like this from the college students, but Tiana would know far more about one of her target demographics for her dream restaurant. Sofia would probably have a reputation with the faculty after this as someone eager to help out the community, which was a huge plus.

“Your stepmother’s actually very polite,” said Tiana after a moment’s thought. “I thought she wouldn’t be because of me suddenly showing up while she was busy. But she treated me very well the whole time you were getting these French books.” She thought about it again. “Actually, she’s rare in that. Most people who get interrupted are a little prickly about it. But your stepmother, she acted like the perfect hostess. That’s a big deal. You should let her know I appreciated her company.” Tiana hoped that Guinevere Bạch had noticed Tiana’s similar desire to be a good guest. That way, they’d have something to build off of if they ever crossed paths in the future.

#. tiana powell #. sofia bạch

[sofia-bach]

.

"I make my yearly gingerbread cookies for Christmas," she answered. "And I like making heart-shaped Linzer cookies for Valentine's Day... But that's as far as I think I usually make for holidays and such." Sofia blinked and tried to think of something that said 'Mother's Day' to her. Was simple shortbread way too basic? Maybe with some frosting decorations... But it didn't exactly say anything related to the holiday. "I... I'm sorry... I don't think I can come up with anything. But I'd love to help with the bake sale, if you'd like! I've never worked at a bake sale, but it sounds like fun." Only problem was making sure that she had the time...

"I think all these questions are clear and easy to answer." Sofia leaned towards the laptop once more and thought about it for a moment. "Hmm... Maybe we could add a question about accessibility and allergy control? Maybe there are specific needs of the students that we should keep in mind, and that would benefit from being recorded in the survey." She had never participated in the making of a survey before but thought that it was a good enough suggestion.

"Well... I'm not sure. She doesn't tell me much about what she does," Sofia said. "But I suppose it's a bit of both. She always seems very busy, and I know that she's often calling people from the company and sending emails. So, I try not to bother her when she's working." That was the extent of her knowledge regarding Guinevere's professional activities. A few times she had asked her how things were at work, and what she was working on currently, but her stepmother usually avoided answering those types of questions.

.

"Please do!" she said, leaving the teapot back on the tray. By this point Sofia simply had a knack for anticipating other people's needs. "It's cinnamon and Rooibos tea. I hope that's alright." As Tiana poured herself some tea, Sofia added a small spoonful of honey to her own teacup. "Do you take it with sugar, honey, milk...?"

Tiana's excitement was contagious. Sofia grinned and gave little hops in her seat. "Wonderful!" She moved the tray a little by the corner of the coffee table, so Tiana could put her laptop. Once she did, Sofia leaned over the little computer, squinting just a bit to read the small letters on the screen.

Her friend (was Tiana her friend already? She would like to think so) was simply too kind. "I just have some experience. I've been baking since I was little," Sofia said humbly. "Thank you very much."

Granny Smith apples. The Orchard had those, right? Sofia herself was more partial to the Gala (the specialty of the Red Orchard) and Fuji varieties, but she trusted Tiana's culinary knowledge completely. "Granny Smith. I'll remember. And... Um, I've taken cookies to share with my classmates, I've done it for a long, long time... They have always seemed to like them." She had used to try to introduce herself to others through her baking for years. Most people just ended up remembering her not as Sofia, but simply as the girl who brought cookies to share once or twice.

Only when Guinevere stood up to leave did Sofia realize she had put the Nancy Sinatra record on. When she did so, Sofia liked to imagine she did it for her, too, knowing that she liked that record as well. "I won't," she assured her stepmother with a smile.

#. tiana powell #. guinevere bạch #/i think ill stop replying with guin since she left. but lets assume she shook hands with tiana before leaving #/shes nothing if not polite

[sofia-bach]

.

"Please do!" she said, leaving the teapot back on the tray. By this point Sofia simply had a knack for anticipating other people's needs. "It's cinnamon and Rooibos tea. I hope that's alright." As Tiana poured herself some tea, Sofia added a small spoonful of honey to her own teacup. "Do you take it with sugar, honey, milk...?"

Tiana's excitement was contagious. Sofia grinned and gave little hops in her seat. "Wonderful!" She moved the tray a little by the corner of the coffee table, so Tiana could put her laptop. Once she did, Sofia leaned over the little computer, squinting just a bit to read the small letters on the screen.

Her friend (was Tiana her friend already? She would like to think so) was simply too kind. "I just have some experience. I've been baking since I was little," Sofia said humbly. "Thank you very much."

Granny Smith apples. The Orchard had those, right? Sofia herself was more partial to the Gala (the specialty of the Red Orchard) and Fuji varieties, but she trusted Tiana's culinary knowledge completely. "Granny Smith. I'll remember. And... Um, I've taken cookies to share with my classmates, I've done it for a long, long time... They have always seemed to like them." She had used to try to introduce herself to others through her baking for years. Most people just ended up remembering her not as Sofia, but simply as the girl who brought cookies to share once or twice.

Only when Guinevere stood up to leave did Sofia realize she had put the Nancy Sinatra record on. When she did so, Sofia liked to imagine she did it for her, too, knowing that she liked that record as well. "I won't," she assured her stepmother with a smile.

Tiana did know what it was like to own a place you were proud of. She’d owned her family’s old house back in New Orleans, in her own special way; her dad had always said so when he served the family their food: “For my partners in life, and everything else.” The everything else was the odds and ends he didn’t like to actually talk about, which included paying off that house. That aside, Mrs. Bạch came across as genuinely passionate about the Redwood Orchard, from the way in which she spoke on its maintenance. But being passionate about your business and being passionate about your family were two different beasts. Tiana herself found it easier to be passionate about family than business, so she mixed the two together whenever she could, dreaming up questions about her friends’ and family’s future that her aptitude and motivation could solve. Mrs. Bạch did not do the same.

Tiana was pleasantly surprised by Mrs. Bạch’s sweet compliment about her cooking. Either Mrs. Bạch had clocked that Tiana was an aspiring head chef of some kind, or she’d decided it was better to get along with Tiana than to be at odds with the unfamiliar guest who had befriended her dissimilar stepdaughter. Tiana hoped it was the former—she wanted to impress strangers these days with her cooking passion and know-how. But if it was the latter, well, Tiana would gladly play along. She wanted to know more about Mrs. Bạch at this point, more than she wanted to fend Mrs. Bạch off and leave her to the influences that had made her so uncharitable.

“Sofia is so special,” Tiana said in reply to Mrs. Bạch’s own characterization of the young woman. “From the first few words we exchanged, I could tell that she was nicer than most other strangers I’ve met. She’s got a gift for people; she’ll be great in social work.” Tiana nodded when Mrs. Bạch explained the hiring of a dedicated handyman. Maybe there was actually more that Sofia did for Mrs. Bạch than Tiana knew about, but Tiana wouldn’t ask more on the subject. After all, Mrs. Bạch at least seemed to have given Sofia’s hard work more thought since the conversation had begun.

Mrs. Bạch’s next remark seemed to confirm this theory precisely. Tiana smiled genuinely. “That sounds like the Sofia I’ve come to know,” she told Mrs. Bạch.

When Sofia entered the sitting room with her tray of treats, Tiana eagerly gestured for her to sit down. But Sofia seemed to be helping with Mrs. Bạch's coffee. Tiana listened as Sofia explained what textbooks she’d lent Tiana and watched as Sofia arranged the coffee cup and pot and poured a cup of tea for herself. Tiana noted that Sofia had brought a third cup and asked, “Do you mind if I pour myself some tea?”

While Sofia explained her progress on the college student survey for local restaurants, Tiana poured her own cup of tea and nodded attentively. “That is exactly what I’d hoped to hear!” Tiana couldn’t help but burst out. “We got ourselves an online survey!” She started to unzip her backpack and tug out her miniature laptop. “I will send the survey to you whenever, but because you’re so kind as to speak with the faculty and all that, I want you to have a hand in how the questions look.” Tiana pulled up the online survey draft and handed the laptop over to Sofia’s couch.

Hearing that Sofia had made her own ginger apple snaps, Tiana made a delighted noise and leaned in for a cookie. “These look so well-made,” Tiana told her, admiring the coloring and outer texture. She delicately took a bite. Then she turned to Sofia and told her, “You’ve got a baking proficiency! At culinary school, you would’ve been a legend!” Tiana said to Mrs. Bạch, “You need to have one if you haven’t tried this batch yet. They’re absolutely perfect!”

Tiana added, “You should try a ginger snap with Granny Smith apples in it. They have a more tart flavor that would spice things up if you ever felt like experimenting. So tell me, have any other students tried your baking? They ought to!”

#. tiana powell #. guinevere bạch

[sofia-bach]

.

"Thank you for waiting," Sofia said once she was back and carrying a tray. "We... I rarely have visitors," she admitted with a little chuckle. "These books cover the proficiency levels from A1 to B2. I don't have the C ones yet, but I will eventually buy them, I think. Once I have them, I can totally lend them to you, too."

She set the little coffee cup on the table, left the steaming coffee pot on the side, and poured herself some tea while her stepmother served her own coffee. Sofia had also brought another cup for Tiana from the set, just in case she changed her mind. Once she finally sat down on the couch she exhaled, glad to be able to rest for a moment with a warm beverage, and turned to Tiana.

"Alright, here are the news," she said after a little sip of tea. "I sent the faculty an email regarding the survey, and they wrote back yesterday afternoon. They say they would need to review the survey to make sure they can vouch for it, but I don't think that will be a problem. So, I believe we just need to send it to them for final approval, and maybe by Tuesday it will already be in the college newsletter."

It was likely very obvious, but she was really glad she could be of help. Sofia wasn't entirely sure exactly how this survey would really help the students, or what particular changes would be done when the results came in; what mattered to her was that Tiana was happy, and, if she believed it would change things for the better food-wise in the town, then Sofia believed it too.

"Are you sure you don't want anything? Yesterday I made my favorite ginger apple snaps," Sofia offered, gesturing to a small platter of cookies on the tray. She was rather excited about Tiana trying her cooking, considering her line of work.

Mrs. Bạch actually had all the nuances of a great hostesses. Her natural mannerisms and the actions she’d taken to receive Tiana into the Orchard House had proven that. What Tiana found herself (and Mrs. Bạch) listening to was a light, somewhat melancholy musical piece that issued from the record player as Tiana sat in a nearby chair. Mrs. Bạch was just sitting in an armchair that Tiana quite liked and crossing one leg over the other when she said something Tiana found surprising: Mrs. Bạch was the owner and manager of Redwood Orchard! Now there was a healthy, profitable business! Tiana wished Sofia could live the lifestyle of an orchard owner’s stepdaughter—spend time learning and dreaming outside, maybe, instead of buried by the workload of that impressive Orchard House.

“Mrs. Bạch, I’ve never visited Redwood Orchard, but I hear that you have a beautiful property,” Tiana told her. With her restaurant on the horizon and Ray’s place in the near future, the concept of property had been on Tiana’s mind of late. “That sounds like a lot of work, doing the managerial tasks for that orchard. What do you say when visitors come to that orchard and ask about the upkeep?”

Mrs. Bạch’s comment about the ease of identifying a good restaurant in town was dismaying to Tiana. And here Tiana had thought that Redwood Hollow was eating better than most smaller towns. She had a point, though—the closure of the impressive, incomparable Gusteau’s had made the eating scene different. Tiana was just about to mention that she cooked at Third Street sometimes when the words “Third Street” came from Mrs. Bạch’s own mouth! And she was explaining that she didn’t care for the street tacos or kebabs… At least she could appreciate the global offerings. The thought crossed Tiana’s mind that some of those hundreds of side dishes she’d prepared in the last month could plausibly have gone to Mrs. Bạch’s own table.

“Yes, the international plates at Third Street are better than you might think for a small college town. I’m often in the kitchen at Third Street Restaurant, helping out the senior chefs with their entrees for those meals. The street food is actually up my alley.” She paused. “And I do waitress at Enchanted Rose Cafe every afternoon.” It was a little more work than she let on, but Tiana didn’t want to press her luck with this Mrs. Bạch. Sofia might hear about the conversation later on, after all.

Tiana was just planning on saying to Mrs. Bạch that she was surprised by Sofia’s workload when Sofia herself appeared in the sitting room, with a book-sized bag that Tiana assumed was what she’d come to pick up from the house. “Sofia,” Tiana said in response to her description of the books, “I’m sure those textbooks look almost new. That’s more than I can say for most of my books at home—I borrow from my mama, and she’s always beating those books up something awful!”

When Sofia exited the sitting room to get coffee for Mrs. Bạch, Tiana finally did ask her intended question: “Mrs. Bạch, how does Sofia get all the cleaning for this house done with her assignments from college and all that? And she mentioned she cooks around this time, too? I’m in awe. You must have someone from outside come for the deep cleaning, right?” Her mama had to get help for those deep cleaning tasks every once in a while, as a normal homeowner.

Tiana sneezed into the crook of her elbow, then asked another question: “Also, how do you two feel about her future as a new social worker? I think that calling is a beautiful one. Helping others like that for a living, that’s about as good a job as you can have!”

#. tiana powell #. guinevere bạch

[sofia-bach]

#. MUSE { with a smile and a song }

[sofia-bach]

.

Sofia quickly washed her face and refreshed herself. It had been so nice of Tiana to tell her to relax, but she barely had a chance to do so in that house. It was alright –she didn't mind it at this point, and was even thankful of having something to do. After all, her stepmother was also a busy woman, and it was understandable that she didn't have the time to do the housework... Maybe, the only thing she would have liked for it to change, was that Guinevere could, sometime, just say thank you.

She came back down with the bag of books and a smile, changed into a pale-yellow blouse and blue jean skirt, hair tied in a neater braid, overall a little more put together than before. "Thank you for your patience. Here are the textbooks. I'm sorry, a few are a little scribbled on the margins. I tried to erase them, but I'm afraid the ones underlined with highlighter I could not fix." Sofia wished there had been anything she could have done to remove that; she had tried everything, from lemon juice to nail polish remover, just short of attempting with baking soda for fear of ruining the book.

Leaving the books on the coffee table, she gave her stepmother a brief glance, and anticipated to her request. "Ah, excuse me. I'll bring the coffee right away." And with that said she left once more for the kitchen.

When “Guinevere” reached out her hand, presumably for Tiana to shake it, Tiana did so hesitantly. From the way that Mrs. Bạch was talking, she seemed to be implying that she worked a little harder than Tiana did. This might have made sense to an onlooker, considering that Tiana was the one visiting the Orchard House and Guinevere was the one forced to answer the door; yet Tiana knew that one working woman should be able to recognize another one. Mrs. Bạch had said that comment because she was upset.

Tiana heard the next comment from Guinevere Bạch, however, and Tiana herself felt upset. Why did this stepmother feel the urge to diminish Sofia’s interests? Tiana and Sofia had planned this survey as a way to help others, and Mrs. Bạch was pretending that the endeavor was as good as worthless.

So Sofia did all the cleaning and cooking herself. For such a house as the Orchard House, this would be a considerable amount of work. Tiana herself liked to clean and cook, but that only gave her the perspective needed to recognize that Sofia was overworked…and that Mrs. Bạch likely used work as an excuse to cover her lack of participation. It was precisely because Tiana worked two jobs each week that she knew that spare time was meant for your values—helping the people you cared about with their problems, or learning more about the world you lived in and loved. It was not for going out to eat alone.

Tiana wished she could say to Mrs. Bạch that Tiana did understand Sofia’s interest in things like that survey and that Sofia should be focusing on what she was passionate about, which Tiana remembered was learning languages and social work. But she only held her tongue.

Soon Sofia arrived at the door, giving Tiana a welcome. She looked exhausted, and Tiana would know what exhausted looked like. In fact, Sofia’s face resembled Tiana’s after another grueling shift filled with tedious side preparation at Third Street Restaurant. Tiana told her, “You just relax! I’m just interested in what we talked about at the cafe, not anything extra you have to do.” She smiled, though she was sure that after Tiana’s conversation with Mrs. Bạch, the smile came across as strained. When Sofia told her she’d retrieve the French textbooks, Tiana replied, “That’s great! But if you need to take a break or anything, you can. I’m in no rush!”

Sofia did head back into the house, for what Tiana assumed was getting those French books. Tiana thought that Sofia and Guinevere Bạch were night and day—Sofia was well-intentioned and considerate, whereas Mrs. Bạch was assuming and stiff. Tiana wondered if there were a significant other in the picture for either of these women. Maybe that might alleviate the constant presence of the other Bạch. But when Tiana let her eyes shift back to Guinevere, she found herself thinking that Mrs. Bạch looked quite content with the way that things already were. Mrs. Bạch didn’t need a significant other to find solace from Sofia’s presence; she was clearly the queen of the castle.

Mrs. Bạch probably had a hand in Sofia’s education somehow. But how much of one? And if Sofia were to ever embrace her future in social work, what would Sofia need to do (and Tiana, if she had any say whatsoever) in order to separate herself from the personal concerns of a stepmother who watched her stepdaughter clean that entire Orchard House by herself?

Tiana would say something to Sofia, when she got back with those French books and they had the opportunity to discuss the online survey. But that was only if Mrs. Bạch left them by themselves…

Tiana would make Mrs. Bạch go back to her work (if that indeed was what entertained her at this time of day). “So, Mrs. Bạch,” Tiana began, figuring out how to speak with an observant-seeming person whom she did not like. “I hear you love the dining scene in Redwood Hollow. That makes me glad. What’s the best restaurant or other place you’ve had a good meal at?” Tiana hoped that Mrs. Bạch would find this new subject as tedious as she found the online survey and she’d disappear into the Orchard House for good.

#. tiana powell #. guinevere bạch

[sofia-bach]

.

"Tiana, welcome! I'm sorry for looking a mess," she hurried to say. she had tried to dry her face a little and comb her hair as quick as she could before rushing down the stairs, but that didn't improve matters enough.

Guinevere moved to the side, allowing Tiana to walk in. Sofia gave her stepmother a quick, thankful glance. "Please, give me a moment and I'll bring you the books… Oh, goodness, I'm sorry! Would you like something to drink? We have tea, coffee, apple juice… Have you had tea yet? I also can prepare something to eat if you're hungry."

But no, this was so improper. She seemed a disaster. She couldn't entertain guests like this. Sofia pressed her lips together, shut her eyes and repressed her desire to escape from the situation, and forced herself to think of a good reason to leave for a moment. "I'll… I'll bring you the books. I bet you're anxious to see in what state they are in."

She turned to face Tiana, then at her stepmother, and at Tiana again, as if asking for their permission.

"... Please excuse me, I'll be right back." Then she raced back upstairs, trying to make less noise when she stepped.

Tiana realized she was staring directly at, not Sofia, but an unfamiliar woman wearing a robe and raising her brows. The woman had asked her who she was, yet she couldn’t say a word. Somehow, Tiana felt like she’d made a mistake; she infrequently felt this way, but the atmosphere had shifted from light and learning-oriented to heavy and skeptical. Tiana wanted to turn and leave, but she stood her ground.

“Hello, my name is Tiana Powell,” she said courteously. “I am a cook and waitress at two different restaurants in Redwood Hollow. I was intending to pay a visit to Sofia Bạch, who I met at the cafe last week.” Her words sounded flimsy to her. She tried to play her doubts cool. “Sofia and I were also intending to send a survey around the college so that local restaurants could serve food to college students in an improved way. Would you be so kind as to let Sofia know I am at the front door?” Tiana’s speech became naturally stilted when she was very nervous. It was a bad habit that her teachers had tried to train out of her, but she couldn’t control her own mouth in situations that were moving too fast for her. This lady—oh, wait, could this be the restaurant-friendly stepmother who Sofia had briefly talked about at the cafe last week? Sofia had told Tiana that her stepmother enjoyed dining out, but also that Sofia didn’t know where her stepmother went to eat. Tiana prayed that this woman was sympathetic to those in food service.

“Also,” Tiana added before she could stop herself. “Sofia mentioned she’d be cleaning and cooking when I got here. How’s that going for you two? I like that you both do that even though you can’t eat together when you go out.” She had no notion of why she’d said that. But she agreed—it was nice that Sofia’s stepmother, if that was indeed who this woman was to Sofia and if Tiana’s hunch was right, did at least something with her stepdaughter.

Then Tiana realized what was very clearly the truth, based on this woman’s tone when answering the door. She had certainly not been cleaning or cooking with Sofia.

Tiana gulped. She wanted to say more, but she’d already let out a mouthful. Instead, she waited anxiously for what Sofia’s stepmother told Tiana after that dreadful comment Tiana had made.

#. guinevere bạch #. tiana powell