“Hmm,” Mayra responded with her lips smashed together. “Are they now?”
Bethany started making me something to eat, telling me I was taking one of the Valium the doctor gave me, and prohibiting me from doing that on an empty stomach. Mayra said she had to go, reminding me that it was almost daybreak, and her dad was waiting up for her.
“I’ll call you later today,” Mayra said.
I nodded and gave her a small smile. She stood up on her toes and briefly touched her lips to mine. Before I could react and remember to kiss her back, she was gone.
Bethany made me a sandwich with a side of potato salad. Though I thought it would have been more appropriate for breakfast food at the given hour, I didn’t notice after I took the first bite. I was ravenous, and the whole plateful was gone within a couple of minutes.
Bethany created a list of things I would need to do before I went to bed. She knew how Valium could affect me, and I’d worry if I didn’t have a list. There wasn’t much to be done, which was good. My aunt then placed a glass of milk and one of the Valium in front of me, made sure I took it, and then she and Travis left as well.
I checked the list, washed the dishes, and cleaned up the kitchen. I put the pen away in the junk drawer and noticed a Ziploc bag with a piece of paper inside—the lottery ticket.
I swallowed hard as my head began to swim. I knew I should check the numbers, but I was in no condition to think about doing something like that right now. Besides, it wasn’t on my list of things to do.
I closed the drawer and went upstairs, beginning to feel the effects of the Valium, and forgetting the ticket entirely. I managed to get myself into pajamas and bed before the drug really took hold. I might have liked to think about Mayra a little longer or maybe do a little more than just think about her. My head got all fuzzy, though, and as the sun started peeking through my bedroom window, I let go of consciousness and slept.
It was afternoon when I finally crawled out of bed. My head was throbbing a bit, so I ate some breakfast and took some generic pain pills I found in the medicine cabinet. I still felt like I was in a bit of a fog. I didn’t like the way tranquilizers affected me, and I ended up just sitting on the couch and watching television until the phone rang.
It was Mayra, and she was going to come over to see how I was doing. I would have been tempted to tell anyone else that I was fine, and there was no need to check on me, but I wanted to see her. About twenty minutes later, Mayra was walking up my front walkway with a large, round Tupperware container in her hands. I opened the door, and she smiled as she took the big round container into the kitchen and placed it on the table.
I tilted my head and watched as Mayra put enough pressure on the bottom of the container to break the seal, and she then lifted the dome off the top of the plastic plate below. Once it was out of the way, a tall, round cake with butter-colored frosting was revealed.
For a long moment, I just stared at the thing in silence.
Mayra finally spoke up.
“I made you a cake,” she said quietly. Her voice sounded strange—not her normal tone at all. I looked at her and saw her neck and cheeks were tinged with red.
“What kind?” I asked.
“Chocolate,” she replied.
I swallowed hard and closed my eyes for a moment, fighting the urge to drop to my knees and confess my undying love for her and asking her to bear my children and bake me cakes forever. I was fairly certain it wasn’t the right time for that, and such an act would certainly fall into the “inappropriate behavior” category.
“The frosting is butter-cream,” Mayra said. “Homemade.”
“Can I have some?” I whispered. My mouth was watering, and I was incredibly relieved when Mayra nodded. She found a knife to cut a wedge and a plate to put it on. A moment later, I was sitting in front of a slice of a three-tiered chocolate cake with butter-cream frosting and what looked like chocolate pudding between the layers. I scooped a bite of it onto my fork and placed it slowly and carefully in my mouth.
It was the most wonderful thing I had ever had in my life.
I got hard just from the taste.
Aunt Bethany’s cakes never made me hard.
I swallowed and looked up at Mayra in awe, my eyes wide and, for once, unable to look away from her. I was glad I was across the table from her and sitting down as well, because the only way to stop the erection growing in my pants was to stop eating this cake, and there was no fucking way I was going to do that. I took another bite, still watching Mayra as I did, then another bite and another quickly thereafter.
“This is incredible,” I told her between additional, rapid bites.
Mayra’s smile grew wide, and her eyes sparkled as I devoured the rest of the piece.
“I’m glad you like it,” she said quietly before biting her lower lip. “Would you like more?”
“Yes, please.”
Mayra smiled again, but the look in her eyes was strange. I looked on in confusion as Mayra took the plastic dome, covered up the cake, and sealed the container again. Then she picked it up and headed toward the front door.
“The next piece will be waiting for you in my driveway,” she said. She kissed me lightly and headed out the door to her car and down the street, taking the cake with her.