Xavier
Legacy Name: Xavier

then

Xavier tiptoes carefully down the stairs, avoiding the particularly noisy creaks of the third and ninth treads and the nail head on the last step that has started to pop. It had already snagged a hole in his favorite wool socks last week. He keeps forgetting to tell Sol, and thinks maybe he'll take care of it himself, despite being repeatedly barred from using any of the steel tools that hang out in the shed. His ring finger still crooks a little sideways after the last time.

The house has its share of quirks, and he's been documenting them all in the three years since they first crossed the threshold. Pieces of a home, he considers. Some, he never cares to address. Others, like the nail, will eventually need to be tended to.

But not today. The sun isn't yet up, but there's a faint blue glow on the horizon, and the snowbirds have just begun their morning psalms. He makes his way across the darkened living room, into the tiny green kitchen. There's a bowl of lemons hidden in the cupboard above the icebox. He had picked them up a few days ago, just before Sol had returned home from a week-long commisson, and their bright scent as he pulls them down tells him they're ready -- perfect, in fact.

He zests, slices, and juices, each method deposited into mismatched bowls ready for the cake and the curd.

The lemon butter cake is not his favorite to make, but it is Solomon's favorite to enjoy. Xavier tends to prefer the showier cakes and decadent rolls. He's recently been trying pastries, as well. Buttery croissants and profiteroles. He's earmarked a recipe for canelés, when he thinks he's ready.

Magic, Sol always calls it. But it's just science, really. Chemical reactions between the flour, the sugar, salt, and yeast. And butter, of course, when called for. But he is often surprised at how delicious the custards and curds turn out. So maybe Solomon isn't wrong after all.

He gets the cake in the oven as the sky outside has turned a brilliant shade of gold.

tbc