Log: What does...tsp mean?
Who: Emily Smulders and Jenna “Jen” Torres
When: Saturday, January 22, 2019
Where: Emily Smulders’ house
What: Baking or something like that.
“Can I just...get...one more.” Jen said as she peaked over Manuela’s shoulder at the cookies she was putting away. “Manuela, really...just...one.” Jen laughed quickly grabbing one. She spun away from the hand Manuela attempted to playfully swat her with. Nearly crashing into the kitchen island as her socks slid on the polished floor. “It was worth it.” Jen said as she returned to Emily’s side, breaking her cookie in half and offering one half to Emily.
Emily grinned over at Manuela, who shook her head at the girls’ antics and walked out of the kitchen. “One day, she’s going to catch you.” Smiling as Jen shrugged, Emily shook her head. “Okay, so Manuela’s birthday is next month. I want to attempt to bake a cake myself before I buy one instead.” Emily looked at the clock. “My mom took the bratty bambinas to Columbus for the day. We need to be done when she gets back or she’ll freak at me cooking.”
Jen wrapped an arm around Emily’s waist. “It keeps our relationship fun, don’t you think?” She moved away towards the kitchen cabinets, leaning up to open them and try to find bowls, realizing she had no idea where they were. “By ‘myself’, you mean you want you and I to make one? Are we making it from scratch?”
“That is what I mean,” Emily worried her bottom lip. “And yes from scratch. Manuela says those box cakes never taste right and that they’re never moist enough.” She walked over to the bookshelf and pulled the cake recipe book off the shelf. “Why doesn’t Manuela use the electronic recipe book,” Emily grumbled as she set the book on the counter.
Finally finding some plastic bowls, Jen leaned up on her toes to tug them down. The tips of her fingers brushed against the bottom of one of the larger bowls and she spun it slowly towards the edge. She was sure Manuela had a stool around here somewhere, but she almost had the bowl down anyway. “I hate baking. I hope you know.” Jen smiled as she got the bowl to the edge but it suddenly tipped forward, apparently Manuela had stacked several smaller bowls inside. Jen stepped back as the large bowl and several other ones toppled onto the counter and floor. Giving Emily a look as she began to pick them she asked, “Do you know what kind of cake we’re making?”
“Make more noise. I dare you,” Emily snapped, rolling her eyes. She peered at the book and bit her lip again as she leafed through the pages. “I don’t know. I guess just a vanilla one with strawberry frosting.”
Jen rolled her eyes right back but resisted the urge to mockingly repeat Emily. After collecting all the bowls and stacking them back the way she assumed Manuela had them she moved to look at the cookbook as well. “You think she would like that? Maybe if we’re going to do this we should do something fancier.”
“Well, this is just a practice cake. In all honesty, it will probably get thrown away uneaten or given to the gardener for his family or something,” Emily said offhandedly. She studied the recipe, happy that she at least knew where most things were in the kitchen. She could make actual meals with no problem, but beyond making cookies and fudge brownies, she had no idea how to bake.
“Oh well, in that case vanilla with strawberry frosting sounds great.” Reading the instructions Jen headed over to the oven. “We’re supposed to preheat this at 350.” Jen pressed the appropriate buttons, finally turning back to Emily when she was sure the oven was heating up. Turning a page just to see what else there was Jen added, “If the cake is edible I’m keeping the damn thing.”
Emily frowned. “Why wouldn’t it be edible?”
Going over to the fridge Jen pulled out eggs and butter.“Because Em, if you need to practice to make a cake I can worry about whether or not it will be edible. It doesn’t mean that I don’t love you.”
“Oh how kind of you,” Emily deadpanned before sighing. “Make yourself useful. Combine the eggs butter and water in that bowl over there and I’ll mix the flour and sugar.” She grabbed the dry measuring cup and start with the bag of sugar. “This cake is going to be amazing just like me.”
Looking over at Emily, Jen raised an eyebrow batting the bowl she was supposed to be mixing things in back and forth between her hands. “Emily...relax yeah? It’s just a cake, you’re not getting graded on anything. It doesn’t have to be perfect, or great even, Manuela is going to love whatever you get her, relax.”
Emily resisted the urge to snap again. So she was a perfectionist? So what? “I know. I just want it to be perfect,” she said evenly. “I am relaxed. Don’t I look relaxed?”
“Yes, totally relaxed.” Jen nodded. “I’m also a six foot tall redhead.” She leaned across the counter pulling an egg out of the carton. “And this, this is a tomato.”
Glaring, Emily snatched the egg from Jen’s grasp. “You’re free to leave at any time you know...”
“Oh thank God.” Jen said exiting the kitchen. A few minutes later she returned wearing her soccer hoodie. “It’s cold in here. But where was I? Oh right. Emily,” she said playfully drawing out her friends name as she walked over and wrapped her arms around her, tilting her head down to rest it on Emily’s shoulder. “Don’t be mad. We can make your delicious cake, but if you keep talking to me like I’m one of the girls on your squad, or someone that works for your parents, it’s not going to be fun for either of us.”
Emily relaxed into the embrace, lips quirking. “I’m sorry, but are you trying to put the moves on me now?”
Jen felt herself tense. Had Alvin told anyone? No, off course not. Something else in her asked, And so what if he did? She was just being paranoid and absolutely ridiculous because of course Emily was teasing. She heard herself laugh as she pulled back. Nudging Emily as she mumbled a hopefully teasing, “Shut up” and reached out to begin mixing the things Emily had asked her to before.
“Well, I mean I’d understand, Jenna. I’m really hot,” Emily teased, measuring out the flour and mixing it with the sugar. “I promise to let you down easy.”
Jen looked up from her bowl. Should she tell her? Did she want to? Telling Alvin and telling Emily were two very different things. She knew Emily would be okay, clearly. But there was still the fear. Her father finding Puck’s jersey, how angry he’d been, how he’d taken it out on her. How she’d made such a huge mistake it had almost it almost cost her their friendship. How it had cost her a friendship. She looked back to her bowl and realized that she’d let several egg shell pieces drop in as she was lost in thought. “Oh, fuck,” she said, starting to reach in, but realizing she hadn’t washed her hands, she turned to grab a spoon instead.
“I don’t know what’s scarier, the fact that you didn’t answer my question or that you’re already messing this up,” Emily said with a sigh. “Just pour that out and start over.” She pushed her own bowl aside and moved across the room, grabbing more ingredients.
“It’s not like it was a serious question.” Jen replied as she scooped the pieces of egg shell out. “So I didn’t think you needed a serious answer. This doesn’t need to be dumped out, I got out the pieces.” She pushed up her sleeves before leaning down to look closer, making sure she’d actually gotten out all the pieces.
“What if it was a serious question? I’m a very serious person, Jenna,” Emily said, doing her best impression of Molly Popp. She grinned and looked into Jen’s bowl, making sure all of the egg shells were gone.
Jen smiled and channeled Josie as she replied. “Well, Emily, while you are a very attractive person I don’t find myself attracted to you in that particular way. Perhaps if you were to...serenade me in Glee club, my feelings would change. Well, as long as you don’t sound better than me.” Jen shook her head, “No I shouldn’t, she’s my friend now. I’m being a bad friend. Look what you’re making me do.”
Emily moved behind Jen and leaned forward, whispering into her ear. “Just admit that it feels good to be bad.” She smirked and turned on the mixer. She transferred the dry ingredients with the wet and watched as they churned together. “You’re friends with Josie?”
Jen raised an eyebrow, turning her head some, looking over her shoulder, to watch Emily out of the corner of her eye. She took a moment before she replied, to make sure her voice would be steady when she did. “Yeah.” She turned leaning back against the counter and watching as the ingredients mixed. “I ate lunch with her when...we weren’t talking. So, yeah, we’re friends now.”
Blue eyes met brown before Emily shrugged. “That’s fine. Just don’t expect me to suddenly want to hang out with her. I’d rather be friends with Molly,” she said as the timer on the mixer chimed. “On second thought...really it’s like Sophie Choice. I can’t pick which of them is more annoying.”
“I wasn’t asking for your permission Em.” Jen smirked. “But, it’s okay, you don’t have to be jealous.” Pushing off the counter Jen turned to search for a pan to pour the batter in, once she found one she set it on the counter. “Do we have to butter that? Butter and flour? What would Manuela do?”
“What do you mean what would Manuela do?” Emily asked slowly.
“The pan?” Jen asked holding it up. “Would she butter it or use butter and flour?” Laughing, she smiled over at Emily. “What did you think I meant?”
“I didn’t know what to think. You didn’t speak a complete thought. It was more like you’d suffered a stroke mid-sentence.” Emily looked at the pan and then back at the recipe book. “It says to grease the pan. So, I guess butter.”
Jen glared over at her. “Bitch.” Bumping purposefully into her as she reached for the butter, Jen rolled back the paper and began to grease the pan. “So, am I allowed to ask if everything is okay with Puck?”
Emily tensed for a second before shaking it off. “Things are fine. They’re good,” she answered. It was weird to talk about Puck with someone else and even weirder that it was Jen. She wasn’t even sure what she was allowed to say or not say. She wasn’t sure she even wanted to talk about it.
“I’m happy for you.” Jen said, looking over at Emily for a moment then back down at the pan. She could feel that Emily wasn’t comfortable speaking about Puck and she really wasn’t either but for entirely different reasons. But, whatever she was dealing with she was still going to make sure Emily was okay. She wasn’t going to mess up like she had before. “Alvin and I went out.” And on our date I came out to him. Smiling at the memory Jen shook her head, sliding the pan across to Emily.
Happy for the change of topic, Emily smiled. “How did that go? I like him. He’s really nice.” And a far cry from Tyler. Though the fact that she still didn’t understand why Jen had gone after Puck bothered her. She poured the cake batter into the pan and then tilted it until the batter was even.
As Emily spread the batter around Jen went to check to make sure the oven had heated up. “We went to Texas Roadhouse and then had ice cream after. He is really nice, but we’re just going to stay friends.”
“Please tell me it’s not because you’re like hung up on Tyler or something because that would be very vintage Lifetime movie of you.” Emily lifted the pan. “Is the oven ready?”
“It’s not because of Tyler.” Jen said, opening the oven door with a nod so that Emily could put the pan in. “Alvin is a great guy. When I told him about quitting soccer, he was really understanding and nice. I don’t even want to compare Alvin to Tyler. I’m not saying I don’t want to be in another relationship. Well, maybe that is what I’m saying. I don’t know. It would have to be the right person.” The right girl. “I just don’t think Alvin is that person. He’ll be a great friend though.”
Emily slid the pan in and set the timer. “Well, whatever. I guess you should probably work on yourself for a while, right? That’s the mature thing to do.”
Jen snorted. “Okay, Oprah.” Closing the oven door she grabbed the bowl Emily had poured the batter from. She dabbed a finger in the left overs and sucked of the sweet batter off before speaking. “But you’re right, I should take some time. That’s what I’m trying to do.”
“Of course I’m right,” Emily said smugly. “You’re so lucky to have me as your friend.” She let her finger swipe the bowl and popped her finger in her mouth, enjoying the sweetness. “And now I have to go work out.”
Jen rolled her eyes. “Stop it. You know you don’t need to go work out. Sylvester is brainwashing you. Resist, Em, resist.”
“You’ve seen Bring It On. In cheerleading, we throw people into the air and fat people don’t go as high,” Emily recited, tugging up her shirt and pinching at the skin on her stomach.
“Do you see that there’s not anything there to pinch. You’re like this big, Em.” She said holding up her pinky. “This big. So stop it. You’re worrying me.”
Sighing, Emily poked at her stomach and frowned. “There’s a reason for that. I keep up a strict diet and exercise regimen.”
“Yeah, but a healthy diet and exercise regimen doesn’t include not eating, or eating a handful of lettuce, then working out for an hour.” Jen pulled Emily’s hand away from her stomach and pulled her shirt down. “So, no, you’re not working out.”
“Well, my girlfriend appreciates my abs even if you don’t,” Emily said offhandedly before sobering. “Anyway, if I value my cheerleading career, I’ll be content to just look at this cake.”
Jen couldn’t decide how she felt about the way ‘girlfriend’ came so easily out of Emily’s mouth. But, it had to be a good sign that it didn’t make her feel like she’d been punched in the gut, right? She must be moving forward some, right? “Except you’re going to have a slice.” Jen said as she went over to the cookbook and turned to the page they needed to make the icing. “Yay, I’m glad we agree.”
Emily rolled her eyes. “Cute, super jock, but I can’t afford the carbs. Sue will make me do a week of Master Cleanse Extreme.” She walked to the fridge and pulled out a bottled water. “Do you want one?”
“How will she even know if you don’t do a...whatever the hell that is?” Jen asked as she nodded, catching the water bottle Emily tossed to her.
“She just always knows. I’m half-convinced she installed little monitoring devices in us while we’re seeing the doctor during Cheerios camp.” Emily shrugged. She wouldn’t really put it past the coach.
Jen choked on the water she’d been swallowing. “Should I be worried that you don’t seem at all worried by that idea.” She looked down at the cook book page. “Do you want to use the recipe with strawberry flavoring or real strawberries?”
“Being a Cheerio is like being in a gang. You have to die or be kicked out.” She shrugged again. “Does the frosting recipe call for real strawberry.”
Jen shook her head, “I don’t see how you put up with it.” Turning between two pages Jen finally replied. “There are two recipes, one with real strawberries and one without. Lets make the one with the real strawberries.”
Emily nodded. “Sounds good. Grab the strawberries from the fridge and I’ll grab the powdered sugar.” She moved across the room and opened the cabinets.
“For the record, we’re like the most boring best friends ever. Which is funny considering how we first met.” Jen grabbed the box of strawberries from the fridge and took them over to the sink to wash. After she washed them she grabbed a small knife to take the stems out. As she looked down her hair fell into her face, she shook her head trying to shake it out of her face as she dropped a stemmed strawberry back into the container reaching for the next one.
“How are we boring?” Emily asked, seriously affronted at the the suggestion that she could ever be boring.
Jen laughed at Emily’s tone. She picked up the container and carefully shook off the extra water. “Maybe boring was the wrong word.”
“It was definitely the wrong word, but it has been a while since I threw a secret party. I should probably do that. Maybe next week...” Emily said more to herself than Jen. It was too cold to have it in the woods and she’d already used the old warehouse. She needed to scout out a few locations this week.
Jen looked up from the carton of strawberries, she wanted one and was trying to decide which she was going to eat. Finally selecting one, then another, Jen ate the first before she replied. “Well, you know what I meant.”
“Actually I don’t. I’m waiting for you to elaborate.” Emily smacked at Jen’s hand as the girl reached for yet another strawberry.
“I just mean...” Jen shrugged, turning away from Emily to wash the knife she just used. She then wiped out the sink. Something about stainless steel sinks and water spots. She’d seen Manuela do it enough times that, at this point, it was more habit than anything she had to think about. “We’re making a cake and when we’re done with this we’ll probably go relax and I’m over here like all the time. I don’t know, we’re like...family or something. It’s nice.” She shrugged, “Whatever, nevermind.”
Emily grinned at her friend, actually warmed by her words. She wasn’t really close to her family at all. It didn’t matter that there was a lot of them. She rarely saw any of her family members. With the adoption of her new siblings, her parents were around more, but it was still awkward at best. Manuela and Jen were who she was closest with and neither of them were blood related. “That was very...Hallmark of you Jenna. You’re going soft on me.”
After Alvin left her porch the night before Jen had gone upstairs plopped on her bed and dialed Emily’s number. But she hadn’t pressed the next button to actually call her instead she’d sent a quick text to let her know she was coming over. She’d wanted to tell her what she’d told him. Because Emily was her family, except better. A million times better. “Em,” she began as she turned around to face her, sliding her hands into the pocket of her hoodie. “I’m going to have to work on that. Or you’ll start thinking I’m your bitch and that didn’t work out too well the first time.” She hadn’t called because she was afraid of the connections Emily might make. She worried that the longer she waited the worse it would be when she eventually told Emily. She felt guilty that she was hiding something that Emily deserved to know.
“Now, if I take just one more strawberry we’re still going to have enough. Better yet, you can have it.”
“Are you saying that you aren’t my bitch? I beg to differ,” Emily said with a smirk, slapping Jen’s hand away again. “That doesn’t mean I won’t want to actually eat strawberries later, Piglet.”
Raising an eyebrow Jen slowly shifted around until she was standing closer to Emily. “Ms. Smulders, what did you just say?”
“Are you referring to the part where I said you are, in fact, my bitch or when I called you Piglet?” Emily asked with a smug grin. Cheerio Emily always lurked just below the surface.
“No, I mean the part where I’m now standing in between you and the strawberries so I’m going to turn around and eat like three more and there will be nothing you can do. That part.”
Emily lunged for her friend, shoving the girl against the counter with a laugh. “Leave them alone, bitch.”
After attempting to squirm out from Emily and the counter Jen finally gave in. “Let’s just make your stupid icing.”
“Yeah, I thought you’d see things my way,” Emily said with a grin. She looked at the recipe as she grabbed the strawberries and took them back with her to the other side of the island.
Jen grumbled her reply, rubbing at the spot that had hit hardest against the counter.
There was a commotion coming from the foyer followed by a loud stream of Italian. Shit, Emily thought. Her mother was home and from the sounds of it, not in a good mood. She had a moment of panic when she heard the unmistakable sound of Louboutins clicking over the floor heading towards the kitchen. Emily looked over at Jen and shook her head. She didn’t want to deal with this.
“Emily, is Manuela baking something?” Her mother asked as she walked in the kitchen, frowning when she saw Jen. “You didn’t tell me you were having company over while I was gone.”
“Well, considering Jen spent the night last night, I didn’t think I needed to,” Emily said back through clenched teeth. Her mother didn’t care for Jen. It hadn’t even been anything she bothered to hide. To her mother, Jen was poor and common. She played an unladylike sport and had no real ambitions to change her circumstances. She always wasn’t thrilled that whenever they went out, Emily footed the bill. The last time they’d had a fight about that particular subject, Emily had kindly reminded her mother that she didn’t pay Emily’s credit card bills and didn’t get a say.
“Hello, Jenna,” Mrs. Smulders said dismissively, not bothering to look at the girl.
“Hi Mrs. Smu-” Jen started to reply before bags were placed into her arms by two little blondes that bounced in after Mrs. Smulders. “Uhh...okay.” She said, looking down at the bags then to Emily.
Rolling her eyes, Emily removed the bags from Jen and handed them back to Carolina and Pia. “Questo è stato maleducato. Prendete queste in camera,” she snapped, shooing them to their rooms with their bags. The girls looked from her to their mother, but Emily glared and they scampered off.
“Well, I don’t think that was necessary, Emily. I’m sure Jenna wouldn’t have minded helping,” Mrs. Smulders said, moving to look in the oven. “Where is Manuela?”
“It was rude they didn’t ask, Jen. She is not hired help. Where are their nannies anyway?” Emily countered, starting to clear the mess on the island. “Manuela is in her room I think. I don’t really make it a habit of keeping tabs. She is an adult.”
“The attitude is unnecessary, Emily,” Mrs. Smulders snapped. “Why would she leave something baking in the oven unattended?”
Emily sighed. So much for surprises. “She didn’t. I’m the one that’s baking.”
“Why on earth would you be baking?” Her mother asked, appalled.
“Because I wanted to try it out?” Emily folded her arms over her chest. Her mother was going to ruin this.
Looking as if she were going to protest, but changing her mind at the last minute, Mrs. Smulders shook her head. “Please, clean this mess up and say goodbye to your guest. Carolina and Pia need help with their English and who better to tutor them?”
“Um how about the tutor you pay all of that money to?” Emily asked, looking at her mother incredulously.
“This isn’t up for debate, Emily. Goodbye, Jenna,” Mrs. Smulders said before sweeping out of the room.
“Sorry,” Emily mumbled, turning to her friend. “You don’t actually have to leave if you don’t want to. I doubt I’ll see her after she retires to her room.”
“Um, of course I’m staying and you know you don’t have to apologize.” Jen replied as she moved to help Emily clean up. “No way I’m not getting a slice of our delicious cake. Maybe we could find someway to still make one again maybe a different flavor. So, if your Mom says something Manuela will still get some sort of surprise.”
“She won’t say anything,” Emily said, eying the doorway defiantly. “But I’m definitely asking my father if I can take Manuela with me.” She sighed and turned back to the recipe book. “Come on. Let’s finish this.”