Heavenly Chocolate Cake

All you need is love – but a little chocolate now and then doesn’t hurt – Charles M. Schulz

Here we go again Becky said to herself. Maybe this time the cake would taste like the ones she remembered. Two cups of flour, instant coffee (only a teaspoon of this), cocoa powder, three eggs, vanilla, chocolate chips (semi sweet) ... one by one she checked off the ingredients and whispered pleas. If she timed it right, the cake would be cool enough to eat when the children, Pam (six) and Pete (eight), came down from doing online schoolwork. Because of the pandemic that hit earlier that year all classes were being held online. Everything was unsettled and there was a lot of fear and angst. When she went out, she had to wear a mask. Supplies were hard to find and were limited. Restaurants were closed. For several weeks even the library was closed. No one could visit anyone who was admitted to the hospital. There were no public meetings like parades or dances, no hugging, no family reunions... her mind was wandering again. Think only about the cake Becky, she told herself.  

Becky knew the pandemic was affecting her children too; so, she was trying to give her little ones as normal a life as possible complete with happy childhood memories for them to look back on as they grew older (like a favorite cake). Some days she really found it hard to hold everything together and now she was the only one left in her immediate family, except for an aunt that had Alzheimer’s and didn’t know who Becky was. She had to keep going for her own sake and the sake of her children but with each attempt to duplicate her mother’s cake there was something not quite right. Her mother got the recipe from her mother. Was she missing an ingredient? Was it the way she was mixing them or the order? Becky had absolutely no idea and it was getting more and more frustrating to continue trying. Fortunately for Becky, her determination was stronger than her frustration.

She checked the clock. Yes, the cake would indeed be cool enough to eat as soon as the children had finished telling her about their day. She had timed it perfectly. They had started a ritual of their own during these trying times which gave them all a sense of normalcy. The children would come downstairs at 3 pm. Pam would get three milk glasses from the low cupboard, and Pete would pour the milk. Becky would have a little snack ready for them. After conversation, Pete and Pam would take it in turns to say Grace before they ate.  

“God is great, God is good. Thank you for the milk and food. Amen.”

Becky had a lump in her throat when her daughter recited the prayer for the first time. It brought back a flood of childhood memories back. Back then you could hug, watch a parade, visit the zoo, eat out (although they very rarely did that), have pajama parties at each other’s houses, and invite friends over for afternoon tea.

The children’s father had walked out the door one day and not returned. She had no idea where he was and could not afford to hire a private investigator to find out. So, she did her level best to make ends meet and provide for her young ones. Her grandmother and mother had both succumbed to the deadly virus within two weeks of each other. That’s why Becky had to create her very favorite cake from memory as there was no one left to ask. Her grandfather had passed when she was seven, but she often felt like he was around, watching out for her. In time she would carry on the tradition of passing the chocolate cake recipe on to the female child when she eventually figured it out.

The children hurried in and told her they could smell chocolate cake - both were beaming from ear to ear. After their little ritual all took a bite. Becky sighed inwardly. It was good, but it still wasn’t her mother’s or her grandmother’s cake. The children couldn’t help because they had never had “the cake”. Something was missing. What on earth could it be? Later that evening when the children were asleep Becky suddenly thought of the crazy song her grandfather used to sing called the Banana Boat song. He changed the words to:

“Mayo, mayo, daylight come and me wan go home; mayo, mayo, daylight come and me wan go home…”

She hadn’t thought of that in years, but it always made her laugh. It was supposed to be day o; but to Becky it would always remain mayo. She fell asleep on the sofa with a smile on her face. “I miss you grandpa” she whispered.

The next day she was making sandwiches ready for the children’s lunch break (they always had a rest period in the middle of the day), and she again felt her grandfather’s benevolent presence. She opened the fridge to get out the lunch meat, bread, and condiments and the strangest thing happened! The mayonnaise jar fell onto the floor in front of her! She breathed a sigh of relief that it was a plastic jar instead of glass, then paused before putting two and two together.

“Mayo? Is that it? That’s what makes your cake so heavenly” she said aloud to the air. Anything is worth a try she thought to herself. There was no more chocolate cake left from yesterday so another one would be appreciated. All three really liked chocolate.

This time she looked at the quantity of the other ingredients and took a guess of adding 1 cup of mayo to the recipe. It was ready as soon as the children finished their school day. They sniffed the air. All mum’s cakes were wonderful but gosh, this one smelled extra great; they couldn’t wait to eat it, so much so that they almost forgot to say Grace. Nervously, Becky took a bite…

That’s it! That’s grandmother’s cake. Now I can pass the recipe on to Pam when she is old enough, she thought. She whispered 

“Thanks grandpa.” Right away she added 1 cup of mayo to the recipe card she had created.

That evening she sang the Banana Boat song with grandpa’s words - the children laughed and laughed. Becky sighed a happy sigh this time. She had love and she had chocolate cake and she was going to surprise the children next week with a puppy. Life was good.