Page 112 of Steamy Ever After

“And don’t leave a mess in the kitchen.”

She didn’t understand the abbreviations in the recipe, had no clue what tbsp or c might stand for. And they didn’t have enough butter in the fridge. She somehow managed to get a version of batter into the pan and mix a crumble topping that looked something like her mother’s.

However, the oven wasn’t cooperating and she didn’t know what she was doing wrong. Afraid to wake her father or upset him, she called Finnegan. He asked his mom and she told Erin which buttons to push and where the dial should be set. By the time Erin figured it out, she was exhausted and still had a worksheet to do for science homework.

Harrison came home long after dark and glanced at the crisped pudding that looked nothing like a crumb cake. “What’s that?”

“Where were you?” Erin snapped.

He scowled. “Out. What’s your problem?”

“Do you even care that Momma’s gone?”

“Yes, I care, but what do you want me to do? It’s his fault she left.”

Her jaw locked as unshed tears danced in her eyes. They both knew the monster he was. When he hit Harrison, her brother sometimes fought back, which only made their father angrier. The last time he beat Harrison it had been worse than ever before, and her brother had barely been home for more than sleep since.

She loved Harrison, so she couldn’t blame him, but in his absence, she took the brunt of their father’s abuse.

He jiggled the glass dish. “You can’t let people eat this. They’ll get sick.”

Her shoulders hurt and she just wanted to lay down. “I don’t know how to fix it.”

Harrison sighed and washed his hands. “I’ll help you.”

For the next hour, they deconstructed and reconstructed the sludgy ingredients in the dish. Adding more flour and sugar and baking it five minutes at a time until the mush finally stiffened to the consistency of cake. She never got to do her science homework but, luckily, Finnegan let her copy his answers in the morning.

Erin pushed her lunch tray away and held her stomach.

“Your belly hurt again?” Finn asked, brows drawn in concern.

It had been a year since her mother left and Erin often carried the stress of her abandonment in her stomach, but this felt different. “I’m not hungry.”

“Can I eat your brownie?”

She rolled her eyes. “Sure.”

When they walked home from school, the pain in her stomach got worse.

“Maybe you should go to the doctor. Do you wanna stop at the hardware store and tell your dad?”

“No. I just wanna go home. I have to finish my social studies project and make dinner.” The crumb cake also had to get baked, but after a year of following that recipe day in and day out, she could now bake the cake with her eyes closed and one hand behind her back.

He frowned at her. “You don’t look so good, Erin. Your skins all clammy and you’re pale.”

Even talking was difficult. Her mouth was overly wet and she worried she might throw up on the sidewalk. If anyone saw her puking on Main Street, they’d tell her dad and he’d get mad.

She swallowed back a mouthful of saliva. “I’m taking the shortcut. See ya tomorrow.”

Cutting through the back roads, she staggered toward her house. A sharp pain stabbed through her belly just as she walked in the door and she rushed to the toilet, falling to the floor and violently vomiting. She was in the bathroom on and off all evening, and when her father came home he was outraged that dinner wasn’t ready.

Erin cooked up a cut of beef and heated a can of corn, but couldn’t manage to eat a single bite.

“What’s wrong with you?”

She pushed the corn on her plate around with the tines of her fork. “I don’t feel good.”

“You’ve missed enough school this year.”

---