Page 51 of Christa's Obsession

“You have never tried fish?” she clarified, just to be sure.

Wanda’s curls bounced as she shook her head. “Is it as tasty as a burger?”

The eagerness was hard to resist. “More so, and actually healthier.”

She gave Christa a bashful grin. “Could you make a meal with fish for me so I can try?”

“Of course. Shall I organize to have that for lunch with my family?” she persisted, going back to the original conversation.

There was no hesitation that Christa noticed when Wanda nodded. “Will you make it yourself? Can I watch?”

“Of course, and yes. You can be my kitchen assistant.” Christa liked the idea a lot.

“What does that entail?”

Christa took the basket of peaches from Wanda and, with a thought, she sent the basket to where Dougal spent most of his time in the forest. “Come on, I’ll give you a preview. I think I should introduce you to hot chocolate fudge cake. Cake for breakfast is most definitely a must.”

Christa struggled to keep from laughing aloud at Wanda’s serious expression as she eyed Christa’s bowl and then her own. “I think I’ve missed a step.”

Wanda had wanted to learn how to make a cake when Christa had set up the ingredients on the counter, so she’d conjured more unable to deny her anything, even when it turned out Wanda was completely inept in the kitchen.

The apron Christa had tied around Wanda’s waist to protect her dress was a war-zone of stains that she had smeared on the white fabric. They weren’t just on the apron. No, Wanda had smears of flour, what might be egg, and chocolate over one side of her face, leading from her chin down her neck somehow. There was flour and melted chocolate coating her curls from the amount of times Wanda forgot and used her gooey covered hands to push back her hair to better see what Christa was doing to follow the instructions.

The once pristine kitchen was an utter mess. Somehow Wanda had covered every surface in some sticky, floury or gooey substance. Some of which Christa actually couldn’t identify an hour into the lesson.

“No, it’s fine, we need to transfer the mix into the greased tins.”

“Are you sure mine looks right?” Wanda looked once more from her bowl to Christa’s, frowning. “Why is mine a different color to yours?” She jabbed at the mix with the wooden spoon as if that would solve the issue. “Mine is definitely paler than yours.”

Christa snort-giggled, doing her very best to hold back her amusement with how sulky Wanda sounded. “It's probably just not got as much chocolate in as mine.”

The frown deepened, and Wanda’s eyes narrowed. “I used the same amount as you.”

Christa bit her lip, hard, at seeing exactly where all the chocolate had gone that was not in Wanda’s bowl. She coughed. “It’s fine, my love. It will look exactly like mine when it’s baked.”

Wanda didn’t look convinced, and rightly so, but Christa didn’t have the heart to point out why. “So, use the stick of butter I cut in half and rub it around the baking tin. We have to make sure to cover the bottom and up the sides so the mixture doesn’t glue itself to the tin when it cooks.”

Wanda followed her instructions, butter covering not only the inside but the outside, too. Christa noticed Wanda liked to be very heavy-handed—with everything.

Christa went back to biting her lip when she offered to help and got her hand slapped away. “I can do it.”

Ten minutes later, Wanda pushed her tin into the heated oven, grinning. “How long do we have to wait?”

“Forty minutes. But we need to make the chocolate ganache next, for the center and the topping.”

Wanda’s brows arched up as she looked at the empty pile of packets sat on the table. “I haven’t got any chocolate left.”

Christa gave her a reassuring smile, conjuring more. What they’d already used was enough to give all the children of a small country cavities. She pointed at the counter. “We’ve got plenty.”

A look of relief followed as Wanda went over and picked up the three giant sized packets, clutching them in her buttery hands. “Where are your packets?”

It was too much, and Christa howled with laughter, going over to Wanda and hugging her, regardless of the mess she was in. All Christa could smell was chocolate as she nuzzled her curls. “I love you.”

Her neck arched back to look up at Christa with uncertainty. “I love you too, but why are you laughing?”

She didn’t resist and bent to give the messy cheek a lick, scooping off some of the chocolate. “Because I forgot how much fun it was to bake.”

“Oh…” The uncertainty disappeared, Wanda’s eyes sparkling with excitement. “What else shall we make after this?”

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