Hello Internet! Welcome back to Monday Spark. Guess who totally dropped the ball on last week’s Monday Spark? Winner, winner, chicken dinner! This week, I bring you a light and fluffy flash fic. Fluffy and sweet like frosting and one boy’s dreams of storybook romance. Our lovebirds are John and Ahimsa, who we’ve met previously in Ain’t Misbehavin’ where they were tiny tots. Good to know the spark remains.
Taste the Love
by Lex Chase
Prompt: The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. And one cooking-inept man sets out to prove it.
Today was John’s birthday and Ahimsa wanted it to be special.
He baked John’s favorite cake, chocolate and vanilla swirl, of course. Because sometimes you want vanilla and sometimes you want chocolate, as John always said.
Ahimsa used a lovely Anne Burrell recipe he found for the cakes. The frosting was a delicate whipped buttercream of pink and blue. Because sometimes you want pink and sometimes you want blue. Ahimsa knew the cake needed a spot of color.
Ahimsa wasn’t the best cook but he tried hard. He had only burnt the cake four times and confused the flour and confectioner’s sugar for the frosting more times than he could count. He realized time and again he was making a lovely batch of blue and pink glue.
But he got it perfect. The cake was exquisite. He did the crumb layer of frosting. He piped the scalloped edges. It was the best he had ever done.
He could see it now when he presented John with the cake he had so lovingly made.
“For me?” John would say. “Triple A! You shouldn’t have!”
“Oh, it was all worth it,” Ahimsa would say. “Anything for you my best buddy oh pal!”
He could see it so clearly; John would demurely blush, then fidget, then clear his throat.
“Triple A?” John would say shyly.
“Yes?” Ahimsa would bat his lashes.
“There’s something you need to know…,” John would say.
Ahimsa would nod and pay perfect attention like he had practiced so many times before. After all, an attentive friend was a perfect friend!
John would pause. Clear his throat. He’d carefully choose his perfect words. He would say…
“Dearest Triple A, best friend of all best friends! With this delightful Anne Burrell cake and it’s sweet, creamy pink and blue frosting… Because sometimes you want pink and sometimes you want blue… Has made me realize something.”
“Oh?” Ahimsa would say, delicately giggling. “Oh what did you realize, dear friend?”
John would take him by the hand and boldly profess, “Dearest Ahimsa Siven, I am madly in love with you. This cake has moved me to tell you so!”
And then they’d elope to the Virgin Islands and have a dream wedding and live totally happily ever after!
Ahimsa knew this because, doi! Cosmo said so!
Cosmo Girl was always right. Well… There was that incident about dying his hair plum with beet juice. He was trying to go green! Only it came out neon plum and took months to actually come out.
Okay… One small boo boo. But Cosmo never lied!
Not like Rachel Ray’s Everyday that had the delicious basil pesto hamburger dinner that could be prepared in thirty minutes. Thirty! Rachel herself had said so! It took five hours. Between grinding the meat, making the pesto, baking the buns, growing the tomatoes, curing the bacon, and on and on. Thirty minute meals were not thirty minutes!
Ahimsa was losing track. John was going to confess his undying love. Over the cake. The cake of love. He made it with love, he made sure you could taste the love. He even put heart-shaped sprinkles in the batter. See! Love!
Paula Deen, besides cooking with so much butter it’s a psychological compulsion, said to always put an accent in the dish that told the person what was in it.
Ahimsa wanted John to know love was in it. So! Heart shaped sprinkles. So what the jar said they were six years old.
The cake was perfect.
The best he ever made.
Anne Burrell was right that her recipes rocked.
He carefully stepped down the stairs carrying the cake plate. The lovely desert jiggled gleefully.
Ahimsa wondered… Did he bake it long enough? Would he wear a dress at the wedding? Was the frosting even? Would he and John adopt children. Three at least! And a cat! A dog! No! Two cats! Of course the children would want a bunny and a pony… And…
The cake wobbled again.
He crossed the threshold onto the back patio.
There stood John. The man of his dreams. His true love. His fairytale prince.
Cosmo was very clear about the prince part.
“Triple A!” John said.
Ahimsa smiled in delight. “John, I made you a cake!”
“And it’s dripping everywhere!” John barked.
He asked to be married at once! He was overjoyed! At last! Ahimsa’s dreams of love came true.
“Triple A,” John repeated. “The cake is melting!”
“I made it with love!” he said.
“Triple A!” John urged. “You’re covered in cake!”
Why was John saying such things? Ahimsa didn’t understand! His clothes did feel wet and sticky though. He looked down.
And the cake had become a chocolate, vanilla, pink, and blue blob!
Ahimsa was crushed. He burst into tears!
“I made it with love and now I’m wearing it!” he sobbed. “I even used heart-shaped sprinkles because Paula Deen said so. I used an Anne Burrell recipe. I thought Rachel Ray was a liar. Her thirty minute meals aren’t thirty minutes.”
John tilted his head.
“Paula Deen is a little obsessive about butter…” John pointed out.
“I know!” Ahimsa wailed.
“Hey…” John poked him in the arm. “Stop crying. It’s really sweet you tried. I know you can’t cook for beans.”
Ahimsa sniffed and pointed at his ruined shirt. “But I’m wearing cake!”
John smiled and gave him a peck on the cake smeared cheek. “It’s okay. I can still taste the love.”
Ahimsa wiped his face only to succeed in smearing more cake all over it.
“Cosmo never lies,” he said.