Let's Start A Bakery!

Chapter 37

Lionel kept staring at me throughout the entire baking process. I tried to distract myself from the awkward silence by washing all of the bowls and utensils I used, and it took me nearly ten minutes to find soap of any kind. Dish soap didn't exist, and neither did any soap in liquid form, so I was forced to use bar soap to wash dishes.

"Why are you cleaning?" Lionel asked. "The maids can do it tomorrow. Just leave it there."

"If we made a mess, we should clean it up as well," I replied, scrubbing the last bowl with a washcloth I found.

"It's weird seeing you act like this all of a sudden," he confessed. "People don't just change so quickly overnight. I think you are hiding something."

Lionel glared at me even harder after that, arms still crossed.

Crazy to think how he hasn't even hit puberty yet.

"Well I guess I'll just have to prove to you that I've changed through hard work and sincerity!" I smiled, mentally giving him a thumbs up.

I just wanted this conversation to be over with. Luckily Lionel, dropped the subject for now.

"When is the bread going to be done?" He asked, tapping his foot impatiently.

"It still has a while to go. We only just put it into the oven a few minutes ago," I replied. 

"How many more minutes?"

"Probably at least 15 more minutes. Just be patient, it will be worth it."

He let out a loud sigh, and slumped over the counter, probably bored from waiting already.

"I'm not going to wait here the whole time. I'll come back when it's ready," Lionel announced to me.

He left me in the kitchen to do god knows what, and I finally felt like I could breathe a little.

How did he even find me in the kitchen in the first place? Was I making too much noise or did he follow me here?

Lionel and Corvalia had the same birth mother, but they were raised very differently from what I could see, since Corvalia's mom died right after she was born.

I was tempted to take a peek at the cornbread in the oven, just to check on it, but decided otherwise. I'd check in a few more minutes.

What should I do now? I don't wanna stand here and do nothing, but I don't want to leave the cornbread unattended either.

I took the butter knife and started playing around with the butter I left on a plate, cutting it into slices, molding it into different shapes. Butter spoiled quickly, and so I had to use the rest of the butter on the cornbread today, because it couldn't be stored overnight.

I stood there, bored out of my mind, waiting for the time to pass, until I felt like the cornbread was ready. I grabbed oven mitts and carefully pulled out the cast iron skillet, raising it up and setting it on the counter.

Steam rose off the surface of the cornbread, perfectly golden brown on the outside. It didn't rise as much as I'd hoped, but since I had no baking powder, I was fine with the results.

Taking a knife, I cut a slice of the bread out and set it on another plate.

This smells so good! My stomach is grumbling so hard.

Lionel still wasn't back yet, but I was sure he'd come back soon, so I set aside another slice for him.

I blew on my slice of bread to help it cool down a little, and spread some of the butter on top as well. It tasted heavenly. Just the perfect sweetness, still moist and slightly crumbly.

I could eat this entire loaf of cornbread all by myself if my stomach was large enough!