Éclairs and Prayers

Heather returned to the kitchen to find that her mother had moved. Now standing in front of the fridge, the door open, her tongue snaked out past her lips and licked at the chocolate on the tip of her finger. A shudder ran through Heather, reminded that her mother’s tongue just an hour before had been licking her ass. She froze, feeling queasy, going unnoticed, until her mother lifted the éclair from the shelf and turned towards the counter. Her mother’s eyes did a double take, no doubt wondering why her daughter was just standing there in silence.

“Oh, hi, honey,” she said, retrieving a plate from a high cupboard and placing the dessert upon it. “Did you get through to your friends?”

“Uh, yeah, mom.” Heather averted her eyes. Every time her mother opened her mouth, Heather could see her pink, wet tongue.

“And Zack? Did you talk to him?” Brooke asked, turning towards the knife rack.

“Um, no, I’d rather hear from Uncle Daniel first,” she explained, staring at the éclair instead of her mother’s face. “I feel like I’ve been on the back foot up until now. Before I talk to Zack, I want to have all my cards in order so I know exactly what he’s done and how severely I’m gonna have to tear him a new one.”

“Frida makes the best desserts, doesn’t she?” Her mother commented, seeing her eyeing the pastry on the plate. “Want to split it?”

“Oh, sure.” She wasn’t really hungry, but she had no other excuse for why she was gazing so intently at the food. Though chocolate did usually make her feel better.

“Listen, the company isn’t the be all and end all of the world,” Brooke consoled her daughter, mistaking her embarrassment and awkwardness for melancholy. “Even if Daniel has usurped the company for no good reason, we won’t lose each other, and that matters more than anything. Your father will simply have to find something else to do.”

“So you really think there’s no hope already,” Heather deduced, watching her mother’s hands as she sliced the éclair in two, placed the other half on a second plate and slid it towards Heather, who took a seat at the end of the breakfast bar.

“It doesn’t look good, that’s for sure,” Brooke confessed. She could always count on her mother to tell her the hard truths. “But this could actually be a positive for you. You won’t have to take over the business anymore. You can do whatever you want in the world.”

“But I don’t want to do anything else. It’s always been my intention to take over the company.”

“Mine too. I already told you that I made a play for that very thing earlier tonight, but if the company doesn’t exist then the possibilities are limitless. You’re an extremely smart, driven young woman, I have no doubt that whatever you put your mind to, you could accomplish something great.”

Though her mother was being encouraging, it was starting to sound like a lecture that Heather heard a lot throughout High School. Heather often managed good grades without really trying, and her mother and teachers routinely tried to convince her that, with just a little effort, her grades would go from satisfactory to outstanding.

“I’ve said it before, but you remind me a lot of your father, in some bad ways as well as good, but I think you could actually accomplish more than he ever did,” Brooke continued. “But the company was always his dream, and I’d hate to see you tether yourself to the same dream out of the respect and admiration you have for him. For the first time in your life Heather, you may actually be free to go and do your own thing, whatever that may be.” Seeing her daughter staring hard down at the plate, she knew she was losing her. “Just think about it, okay?”

“Sure thing, mom.”

It might have been true that, once upon a time, Heather had other dreams and desires for her life, but she had long since put such childish ideas to bed. For the longest time, the company had been her future, her chance to prove that she was her father’s daughter through and through. Without that in her life, shining in front of her journey like the guiding beacon of a light house, Heather simply felt lost.

With the conversation dwindling down, her mother decided to focus her attention on the éclair in front of her. Heather had to look away again as she bit into the dessert, chocolate smearing across her upper lip as cream burst from the seams the moment the pastry buckled against the **** of her teeth. Of course, it was at that moment that Robert returned, his phone still in hand, her mouth too full to ask how the call had went. Seeing the mess she’d made of her face, poised to take another bite, Robert smiled, the sight a small measure of happiness in these troubled times.

“I see you found the éclairs,” he teased his ex-wife.

Brooke smiled back rather sheepishly but not regretting it in the least as the delectable flavors hit her tongue, the beautifully fluffy pastry mixed with sharply sweet whipped cream, topped with a rich, slightly bitter layer of chocolate. Frida’s cooking alone was almost enough to make Brooke consider moving back into Ravers Manor permanently.

Since her mother was otherwise preoccupied, Heather asked, “What did Uncle Daniel say?”

“Nothing,” Robert said, shaking his head and leaning over the counter with both hands. “First of all, it took me forever to get him through to him. When he eventually deigned to pick up, he refused to talk about it over the phone and said he’d see me tomorrow morning.”

“That’s it?” Heather pressed, eager for any kind of clue. “He didn’t let anything else slip?”

“Nothing I said mattered to him, he just completely shut me out,” Robert rubbed his forehead. “I might have understood if he sounded angry, or upset, but there was no emotion at all in his voice. It was like it was just another business deal to him.”

“The only thing left is to wait then,” Brooke concluded. “I think I’ll sleep here tonight, to save me the return trip tomorrow morning.”

“Of course, that’s the most sensible option,” Robert agreed.

“Then I’ll turn in now. All this corporate scheming has exhausted me.” She leaned over and kissed Heather on the cheek, not even noticing her daughter straighten up tightly at the contact. “Good night,” she said, repeating the sentiment to Robert as she passed by and offering him a hand on his back for added comfort, before departing from the kitchen, plate in hand, taking the last quarter of éclair with her to bed.

Heather pushed her own plate away, her gut too twisted up to eat. No matter how good a cook Frida was, it would all taste as ash in her mouth, the future seemingly going up in smoke right before her eyes. She had never seen her father look so defeated, the very sight making her sick to her stomach.

“There has to be something we can do,” she said, **** for the same kind of inspiration that had led to her plan to put Zack in charge. “Some kind of Hail Mary pass…”

“Zack was the Hail Mary,” Robert said, reading his daughter’s mind. His hands curled up into fists, his knuckles pressing down into the counter top. “And we still lost the game. We’re at Daniel’s mercy now.”