The Nest is Empty

Naomi Matisse, born in New Hope, Pennsylvania on 27th March 2002, was born a culinary prodigy. She began helping her mother in the kitchen at age 4, standing on a small stool so she could stand tall enough to stir the pot of spaghetti under the protective supervision of her mother, Dorothy. By 6, she was already chopping up ingredients and had begun making spaghetti sauce from scratch, using recipes found on the internet.

The age of ten saw her working more with her father, Arthur, as he changed jobs and was home more often. They began indulging in Arthur’s favorite culinary pastime, baking, something her mother had never had the knack for. Through persistent hard work, they eventually graduated from chocolate chip cookies and peach cobblers to macrons, eclairs, and soufflés.

As Naomi grew older, she became increasingly fussy about utilizing proper techniques and measurements for meal preparation and presentation. At first, she had to make use of videos and articles posted on the internet that could describe for her the most precise and skilled ways to undertake certain tasks. Eventually, her parents, realizing that this was her passion, elected to start enrolling her in various cooking classes. Initially, it was simple weekly classes held at a very local school. Over time, into boot camps and trips around the country, finances permitting. Then she began first competing in and winning competitions staged in the New England area. She even got a part-time job working in a restaurant in New Hope.

She cooked dinner most weeknights at home, often alongside her mother, assuming she either didn’t have schoolwork to attend to or places to go with friends and boys. Once a week, on either Saturday or Sunday, she would bake a dessert, bread, or some kind of pastry with her father.

After graduating high school, she wanted to go to a culinary arts school. She even received a Friends of James Beard scholarship. She even knew exactly where she wanted to go: The Auguste Escoffier School of Culinary Arts. Escoffier specialized in haute cuisine, which emphasized smaller courses, elegant presentation, and using top-of-the-line equipment for meal preparation. It was all about cultivating skills to achieve perfection, which was Naomi’s personality type through and through. 

The school had two campuses, one in Boulder, Colorado, and the other in Austin, Texas. Naturally, she preferred to go to the one in Colorado, though the cost-of-living expenses in that state were astronomical. She figured the price difference was worth not having to live in Texas. Her parents, understanding her position but having to pay for anything her scholarship wouldn’t cover, only agreed reluctantly.

She was forced to choose between a program in culinary arts and another in baking and pastry. Although she loved baking with her father, she ultimately pursued an Associate of Occupational Studies Degree in Culinary Arts. The duration of the course was 60 weeks.

The house was empty. Without her around, neither of her parents felt like cooking as often. They both had work to do. Neither of them was as adventurous in the kitchen as she was. It just didn’t seem as fun anymore. If either of them made anything, it was often simple and plain. Things grew so dire after only a few weeks that they began to eat in separate rooms, usually getting takeout or microwaving frozen foods.

Dorothy’s birthday fell on November 5th, a Sunday that year. She was turning 58. Her mother, sister, and brother were all coming to visit that day. So was her daughter, who had promised to take care of all the cooking.

All three of her family members lived across Pennsylvania. They would all arrive on Sunday. Dorothy was excited to spend Saturday with just her daughter and her husband. She hoped the three of them being together would bring back some warmth between herself and her husband.

But on Saturday came some bad news.

“Hey,” Arthur said, walking into their bedroom. Dorothy was in bed, watching HGTV. “Those storms in Boulder are pretty bad. A lot of lightning. They’re delaying all flights.”

She sighed. “Isn’t Colorado supposed to be dry?”

“Well, it’s cooling down anyways but I’d rather it be raining than on fire all the time.”

“What an awful place to build a school.”

“It’ll be okay. She’ll be here on Sunday.”

There was an awkward silence while her husband stood at the entrance to their bedroom, neither walking all the way in to join her nor leaving just yet.

“Do you know what she wants to make? We were supposed to go shopping today,” Dorothy asked.

“She said she wants to buy everything herself. Apparently, that’s part of her schooling or something. Learning about the best ingredients.”

“Well, I thought we had to do meal prep.”

“I think she’s gonna make something different now. I’m not sure.”

“Well, do you want to watch TV?”

“I’m watching in the other room…” he hesitated.

“Just watch here.”

“Well, the game’s on.”

“Oh. Yeah. Go to the other room.” She never understood the point of football.

He turned around slowly, staring at his phone in one hand. He almost tilted his beer in his left hand too far and nearly spilled the contents on the floor, before catching himself. He paused for a moment before shuffling somewhat aimlessly out of the room and down the hall, never taking his eyes off the phone.

The storms calmed down around 3 a.m. mountain time. By 5 they had ceased altogether. Naomi’s flight departed at 7:15 a.m. mountain time and would arrive in Ewing, New Jersey at approximately 12:26 p.m. Her father would pick her up there and together they would drive to the necessary stores to pick up ingredients before heading back to New Hope to cook the meal and hopefully have it done before 7 p.m.

The plan was to assemble a couple of appetizers, the main course, and the dessert. Naomi hadn’t been at school for long, but she was eager to use what she learned. Unfortunately, this meant that Dorothy had to convince her family to tolerate a late dinner, likely served right before they’d have to drive back to their respective homes so they could be ready for work in the morning.

Arthur left to go pick up their daughter a little after 12. Dorothy’s mother, Beatrice, arrived at 12:26.

“Hello, sweetie. How are you?”

“Fine, Mom. Just fine.”

“Happy birthday. Is anyone else here?”

“Not yet. Arthur just left to get Naomi.”

“I’m excited to eat her cooking. Her food is always so delicious.”

“I’m excited too.”

She went into the living room with her mother. Dorothy turned the television on but left the volume on the lower side. Whenever it was silent, they would stare at the TV.

“Are you enjoying having the house to just you and your husband?” Beatrice asked.

“It’s been nice,” Dorothy nodded, “a little quiet though.”

“It can be strange at first.” Beatrice nodded. “You gotta find things to keep yourself busy.”

Dorothy gestured to the coffee table. On it was a puzzle, with only the border completed. The rest of the pieces surrounded the completed border. The surrounding pieces were separated and grouped by color.

“Oh,” her mother squealed, “puzzles are good! I like puzzles!”

“We can bring the coffee table closer to us and work on it for a bit,” Dorothy said.

“OK.”

Dorothy shoved the coffee table closer to the couch where her mother was sitting. Dorothy sat down next to her, and they began sorting through pieces and working on putting together the interior of the puzzle. They worked for about 45 minutes before the doorbell rang. Dorothy stood up and grabbed her phone. As she walked to the door, she saw the text from her sister informing her that she had arrived. She opened the door and saw her sister, Sam, and her sister’s husband, James, waiting to be let inside.

“Hey!” her younger sister cried cheerfully. “Happy birthday!” They gave each other a big hug and Sam handed Dorothy a couple of bottles of good wine. Dorothy then hugged James before letting them both inside. They walked in, holding onto each other, and Dorothy followed behind.

“I really like that dress,” said Dorothy. She wore a long-sleeved dress with rather bold color choices and an asymmetrical floral design. It was a little too small. The sleeves didn’t quite reach far enough down her arms, not that this seemed to bother her.

“Thanks, I bought it off Etsy,” her sister replied, before giving a twirl to show it off.

“She’s been buying everything off Etsy lately,” James said.

“I have to support small businesses,” said Sam.

Sam and James grabbed each other’s hands, walked into the living room, and greeted the mother. They sat down together on the loveseat and watched as Dorothy and Beatrice returned to the puzzle.

“Hi, James. Hi, Sam.” Beatrice said.

“Hey, mom.”

“Hello.”

“Sam, you’re so tan!”

“Yeah, I love it. It’s probably the best part of walking dogs. James keeps making fun of me though.”

“I’m not making fun of you. You should just wear more sunscreen.”

“I like my tan.”

“You should listen to him,” Beatrice said. 

“He’s not a doctor!”

“No, but he looks at numbers all day long. He knows.”

James was a data statistician, currently employed by Cigna. Sam was a dog walker. She had previously owned an independent coffee shop in Allentown that was open for seven years before going out of business in October 2020.

“Where’s my niece?” asked Sam.

“She’s still out buying ingredients with Arthur. He just texted me like 20 minutes ago saying they’d be back in 30-40.”

“Wow, it really is going to be a late dinner.”

“I’m excited,” said Beatrice.

“Me too,” said Sam.

“Naomi has become such a good cook,” said Beatrice.

“I know. I love her cooking. You know, I think of her as being like my own kid, almost.” Sam said to Dorothy.

“She loves you too,” said Dorothy.

“So how is not having a child around the house all the time? It’s awesome, isn’t it?” Sam asked Dorothy.

“It's really quiet.”

“What, you aren’t enjoying your alone time with Arthur?” Sam teased.

Dorothy smiled nervously. “Well, we’re both busy. It’s just been kind of quiet.”

“Are you and Arthur kind of distant?” asked Sam.

Dorothy must have made a face because her mom butted in. “They raised a child together. That’s what a marriage is supposed to do.” Then Sam made a face.

“I’m sorry it didn’t happen,” she muttered.

It became a little quiet after that.

When Naomi and Arthur arrived, they both greeted everyone before Naomi rushed into the kitchen. Arthur followed behind her, saying, “I’m gonna be the assistant chef today.”

Dorothy was jealous that he got to cook with their daughter. It was her birthday though, the food was Naomi’s gift, and Dorothy had her family to entertain so she stayed with them in the living room. The conversation around the table would begin whenever someone got bored of the silence and end when someone said something that made the mood awkward.

A while later, the final guest arrived: Nicolas, Dorothy’s brother. He lived alone and came alone. Quite late too, much to the annoyance of Beatrice and Sam. When Dorothy answered the door, he gave her a small hug and handed her a neatly wrapped gift.

Dorothy walked him into the living room. He peaked his head into the kitchen. He gave a brief hello before taking a seat on the floor near the table. There weren’t any other available seats. Meanwhile, Dorothy set the box down at the corner of the table.

“Oh, he got you a gift,” said Sam.

“Open it,” said Beatrice.

Dorothy opened it. It was woodcarving of a highly stylized hawk. The bird was in an action pose, ready to take off in flight.

“I love it,” said Dorothy.

“Nicolas, that’s beautiful,” said Beatrice.

Sam was quiet.

“I wanted to try making things instead of just buying gifts.” Said Nicolas, looking at Sam. “I mean, I probably should have been doing that all along. It just seemed… a bit much to me before. I was probably wrong.”

Dorothy carefully placed the carving on the mantle, positioning it just right, and took a second to admire it.

“It’s nice,” said Sam. James squeezed her arm lightly with his hand.

“I’m gonna be finished with the puzzle by the time they’re done cooking,” said Beatrice.

“You sell any pieces this month?” Dorothy asked Nicolas.

“One.”

“That’s good. It’s only the beginning of the month.”

“It’s good but it’s not enough. My roommate is moving out when the lease ends next month.”

“Damn.”

“I’d say that’s what I get for trying to room with a teenager, but I didn’t really have a choice. Now I might have to get another day job.”

“You were rooming with a teenager?” asked James, a little surprised. “Sorry,” he quickly followed. Nicolas just shrugged, then brushed his long gray hair out of his eyes with his hand.

“Worst-case scenario, I’ll always have that van,” said Nicolas, half-joking but failing to lighten the mood.

“Well, I’ll always be proud of all of my children,” Beatrice said.

Dorothy laughed. “We’re a sad lot though.”

“No, you’re not!” replied Beatrice. Sam looked over, offended.

“I mean, we’re all successful in one way or another but we’re all still stuck in some awkward stages of life despite being a bunch of old farts.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Sam.

“Oh, come on. None of us have the exact lives we all wanted. We’re just awkwardly inhabiting the lives we got.”

The only person who didn’t look upset by this was Nicolas. Sam was about to say something, but her mother responded first, “I know you’re an empty nester and you’re wondering what to do but--”

Naomi’s voice cut her off when she called out from the kitchen that dinner was ready to be served.

They silently got up and shuffled into the dining room. Arthur popped opening the first bottle of wine and equally distributed the wine to all. Naomi brought out the food. The appetizers were gougères, a puff pastry served with Gruyère, and French onion soup. The main course was sole meunière, a Dover sole breaded in flour and sautéed in butter. Dessert was a cherry clafoutis.

They ate, able to maintain a continuous conversation. Naomi was previously a good cook, but it was clear that she had already improved a lot thanks to Escoffier. The meal had been worth the wait. Naomi, unaware of the awkward conversation that came before the meal, felt only a simple pride at seeing her family enjoy her cooking so much, 

After the meal, they hung around and talked for a little bit but by 9 p.m. Dorothy’s mother went to bed, her sister and her husband went back home and Naomi, exhausted, went to sleep. Originally, her return flight was that night, but since she just flew in at noon that day, she rescheduled to take a different flight back to Boulder in the morning. Arthur, Dorothy, and Nicolas stayed up for a little longer to drink the second bottle of wine and chat.

“I wasn’t upset by what you said,” said Nicolas.

“I wasn’t trying to insult anyone,” said Dorothy.

“What did you say, exactly?” asked Arthur.

“That my whole family is kinda sad and old now.”

“Do you feel sad and old?”

“I dunno. Sometimes. It’s weird now that she’s gone.”

“It’s a lot quieter,” Arthur agreed.

“I’m definitely just sad and old,” said Nicolas, “but that’s okay. I’m happy too.”

After Nicolas went to bed Arthur asked Dorothy, “are we good?”

“I think so. We’re just a little distant right now but everyone's relationships have their ups and downs. I just feel more like a family when we have our daughter home.”

“Me too. It’s weird being a couple just by ourselves again.”

“It’s a big change, but I’m so proud of her, and she’s going to do so many great things.”

“I’m glad you’re my wife. Happy birthday.”

“Thank you for helping make it a good one.”