The Pregnancy Club - Chapter 34

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Sadie

"So, how many eggs should I put in?" I asked, holding and egg over a bowl holding the Lemon Meringue Pie pastry batter, waiting for Chastity's instruction. I had never baked in my life, so all of this was new to me. My dad once told me my mother made amazing snickerdoodles, but I guess I would never know her secret.

We had gotten together on Saturday after Pregnancy Club as promised, all having our own individual room in Aimee's enormous kitchen, complete with state-of-the-art oven, stove, microwave, dishwasher and endless rows of cabinets. This was the first time I had entered Aimee's house, and I had only seen the living room, the hallway and the kitchen and I was already impressed. From the kitchen window I could see their pool and hotub, leaving wiggling wrays of light on the patio.

"No! You put the eggs in the meringue," Chastity pointed to a different bowl beside Tanya, who was quickly whisking a yellow batter. "And you only put the egg whites in." Chastity explained, returning to her Double Chocolate Brownies.

"Okay . . . how do I do that?" I asked. Chastity sighs, but shoots me her ever-there smile.

"Here, let me take care of it. Could you work on the brownies? All you have to do is add two teaspoons of vanilla and melt one cup of butter." She explained.

I walked over to her brownie pan, and scanned the area for a teaspoon. "Which one is a teaspoon?" I held up a small spoon, a medium spoon, and a large spoon. Chastity quickly looked up, and then back down.

"The medium spoon, the one with TSP on it." I checked the spoon, and sure enough there was TSP engraved on the plastic.

"Oh, okay. Thanks." I grabbed the small container of delicous-smelling brown liquid, and poored a little bit in the small spoon, and then again, only spilling a small amount. I was proud of myself.

Other than Chastity working on the pie and I on the brownies, Flame was making the apple pie she had mentioned at the diner, remembering some bits and pieces of her mother's recipe and using the many cookbooks we had bought for the rest. Tanya was making her alleged, "famous" banana muffins, and Aimee was whipping up some Toffee Cake.

I stood in front of the microwave, waiting for the butter to melt. I passed by Aimee, sticking a finger in her bowl and licking my fingers, savouring the toffee's thick taste. Aimee turned around and poked me with her spoon, leaving a small amount of stick remains on my shirt.

"No tasting! My creation is not yet finished." Aimee mocked being mad, and I laughed. The microwave beeped and I grabbed the pitcher of melted butter, slowly pouring it into the saucepan. While waiting for the mixture to cool, I looked around at the team of pregnant or already-mothered teenagers, standing around a kitchen, baking. Eight months ago, if someone had told me that I would be doing this, I would have laughed in their faces. Now, it seems normal. Being pregnant, being in The Pregnancy Club, and being able to be comfortable with Ben, which, so far, was amazing. Because our feelings were mutual now (I guess they always had been, but now they had both been admitted) we were so easy-going together, whether we were cuddling on a couch or sitting together in class. To be honest, things were even more simple than how they were before.

The microwave beeped and I went back over, taking the warm, melted butter and slowly pouring it into the saucepan. Now I just had to wait for it for it to settle and cool before I put in the dry ingrediants.

Only twenty minutes in the kitchen and I already sounded like a Food Network host.

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