Page 11 of The Baby Dragon Bakery (The Baby Dragon #2)

Theo followed Beena into the kitchen, watching as she twisted her hair up and set it with a clip from the edge of her sweater.

“Seviyan?” she asked, opening the fridge. “I don’t think I’ve taught you that, yet.”

“You haven’t,” Theo confirmed, rolling up his sleeves. “But yes, let’s.”

The sweet dish was primarily made of vermicelli, milk, and heavy cream, and Beena grabbed the ingredients.

She showed him the steps, teaching him with gentle patience.

Theo paid close attention, jotting down the steps in a new note on his phone.

First, they boiled the milk and the heavy cream, and after that bubbled, she lowered it to a simmer.

“That’ll cook for a bit,” she said. “And we have to keep stirring it so the bottom and edges don’t burn.”

“Got it.”

“But while that’s simmering, we are also going to toast the vermicelli,” she said, pulling out a pan. She opened the vermicelli packet and broke the thin round spaghetti in halves so it would be easier to toast. She browned the vermicelli with cardamom pods, the fragrant smell filling the kitchen.

“And now we combine,” she said, emptying the pan of vermicelli and cardamom pods into the milk mixture. She added in sugar, not following any exact measurements but cooking instinctively.

Theo stirred the pot, watching the mixture thicken until it reached what looked to be the right consistency. He held up the spoon, showing Beena as she stood beside him.

“It shouldn’t be too thick, nor too thin,” Beena instructed. “If it’s too thick, it becomes like custard, and if it’s too thin, it’s just milky. We need it in the middle.”

She stirred the pot, then ran her finger along the back of the spoon, tasting. She thought for a moment, then added in a touch more sugar, stirring again.

“Almost ready—time for the secret ingredient,” she said with a wink.

She grabbed some soft medjool dates from a jar, splitting three open to pull out the seeds.

Then, she dropped them in. “You add them in at the end because you don’t want them to cook or the seviyan to get too sweet and the date flavor overwhelms the dish.

And always use medjool—ajwa are too hard. ”

“You don’t want to make a paste or anything?” Theo asked, jotting down the notes.

Beena shook her head. “The flavor will get soaked into the milk, and whoever wants the dates will have to hunt for them.”

She got two spoons, then handed one to him, and they tasted it straight from the pot. It was good: milky, sweet, and warm. Usually, whenever he’d had seviyan before, they were cold, so it was a bit strange to have them hot now.

“We’ll let it sit overnight so it can chill,” Beena said. She added more milk to the mixture, then stirred. “It thickens in the fridge, so I always add a bit more milk before throwing it in.”

“Ah.” He wrote that down while she put some seviyan into a box for him to take back to his place.

“Thank you,” Theo said, taking the box. “Now I just need to think about how to make this into a fusion dessert for the cafe.”

“You mean the Baby Dragon Bakery?” Beena teased. It was what she called his contributions to the Baby Dragon Cafe.

“Yes,” he said, smiling. He recalled what she’d said about how, if it got too thick, it would be like a custard. He was struck with an idea. “What if I let it get thicker and use it as a filling for cream puffs?”

“Ooh. I’ve had your cream puffs, and they’re divine. That sounds delicious!”

“When I try it, I’ll let you know,” he said. He had a little sketchbook at home that he drew new ideas into, and he could already imagine how this could look. His gaze strayed to the time on his phone. “For now, I best get going.” It wasn’t too late, but they all had early mornings.

“Okay, darling,” Beena said. He swooped down to kiss Beena’s cheek, catching a waft of the familiar powdery scent of her perfume.

On his way out, he popped his head into Garrett’s office to say goodbye. Alfie was sitting on the floor, doing his homework, and Theo ruffled his hair.

He went up to say bye to Lavinia last. Her room was a mess of all the strewn clothes she had tried on: they hung off her bed and desk chair, different articles all over the floor.

She had cleared some of them away to make space on her rug, where she was sitting cross-legged, her school things spread out.

Instrumental music played in the background, and he knew it was a playlist titled something bizarrely specific like “studying in an old library in the melancholic rain” or “you’re living a quiet life in the countryside.

” Her hair was pulled up in a high ponytail, and she was wearing her reading glasses, focused on the textbook in front of her with a notebook in her lap.

Theo stood in the doorway a moment, watching her. His chest felt tight for some reason.

Then she glanced up, noticing him. The serious studying expression on her face melted away.

“Save meeee,” she said, reaching for him. She was being dramatic, pretending to cry, and he laughed.

“Who told you to be so hard-working and go to vet school?” He leaned against the door frame, fondness warming through him. She made a face.

“When I’m rich and have a private island, you are so not invited,” she said. “Then you’ll be sorry. Sorry , I say!”

He snorted. “We made seviyan,” he told her. “Have some sugar, it’ll help your brain.”

“Ooh, yum,” she said. “I’ll get some in a bit. I’m almost done with my notes.”

“See ya,” he said. She waved, and Theo headed out.

He drove back to his place, though he was in no rush to arrive any sooner. When he did make it back to his apartment, he opened the door to a quiet and still space. Theo flipped on the lights, a strange sinking feeling in his stomach. It felt like going back to school after a long holiday.

He always felt this way after coming back from the Williamses’, but today he felt it more keenly. The largely empty apartment was such a stark contrast to their lively home full of love and laughter. And Lavinia. No matter how much time he spent with her, it never felt like enough.

With a sigh, Theo kicked off his shoes. He put the box of seviyan in the fridge, then went to his room.

He should sleep soon; he always had to get to the Rolling Pin super early, and lately, he’d had difficulty getting up in the morning.

He wasn’t sure if it was because he wasn’t getting enough sleep, or because he wasn’t as enthusiastic about his work anymore.

Theo brushed his teeth and shucked off his clothes from the day. He slept in his boxers. When he got into bed, he put his phone to charge on his bedside table but tonight, as he did, he saw that he had missed a call from his mom.

He knew he should call her back. He hadn’t spoken to his parents in a few weeks.

He should probably visit them soon, as well.

They still lived in Starshine Valley, in the same house he grew up in, and he visited them every other month or so, purely out of formality.

On the other hand, he visited the Williamses almost weekly.

If more than ten days went by without visiting Lavinia’s home—without seeing her family—he felt an acute sense of something missing in his life.

It wasn’t like that with his own parents. He would never be good enough for them, he knew, and he had made peace with that a long time ago. Even so, every time he went over there, there was some comment or some silently exchanged glance between his parents that made him upset.

No matter how old he got, it still hurt. He was still that unwanted kid inside.

It was worse that it still surprised him every time it hurt, because then he just felt stupid. He should have known the reality of his parents’ relationship with him by now, but his stupid heart wouldn’t accept it.

There was a part of him that believed that, like magic, one day he’d have what Lavinia had—parents who loved him, a healthy family, all of it. Nothing his parents could do now would undo the past, but if they were just nice, just once, he’d forget everything and be content.

They were never happy with him. Even though they didn’t scream or hit him, they were so negative. And always disappointed. When they were disappointed, they either berated him or they released long, exhausted breaths, as if they didn’t know how to get rid of him.

Funnily enough, at least his parents loved each other.

He recalled when he was in school, after he’d gone up to his room, he’d hear them talking to each other, laughing.

They sounded happy. He could creep out of his room, quietly standing in the hallway, listening.

A few times, he even went down, under the guise of needing water from the kitchen.

But the second they saw him, the laughter died, and with horror, he realized he was the problem.

Just him. Nothing else.

Even then, he never stopped trying and trying and trying to make them happy, as if one day they could be proud of him.

They refused to send him to culinary school, saying he had to get a real degree, so he didn’t go; he did a business degree and took culinary courses on the side.

He didn’t mind the business degree—he was good at it, so it didn’t require much from him—but still, that didn’t get him in their good graces, so finally after he graduated he gave up.

He started working at the Rolling Pin since that was what he wanted to do, and it was just confirmation for his parents that he had ended up as the disappointment they always knew he was.

They thought he was wasting his time—wasting his life.

They were never proud of him, and he had internalized that to a degree so deep, he could never feel proud of himself, either.

His eyes welled up with tears, and he brushed them away, swearing lightly to himself. He needed to not be such a baby and grow up already. People’s parents were shitty. It wasn’t anything groundbreaking.

Theo felt restless. He shouldn’t have thought about all that. He got out of bed and began pacing around his apartment, making laps around the small space, navigating around furniture. He ran both hands through his hair, anxious energy pounding through him.

Theo touched two fingers to his wrist to press against his racing pulse but, instead, he felt Lavinia’s scrunchie there.

He didn’t even remember slipping it on before getting into bed, but the sight of it was comforting.

He slowed his pacing, looking down at the scrunchie.

He should have given it back to her, but for some reason, he hadn’t wanted to.

Theo stopped pacing and sat down on his couch, taking deep breaths, trying to push his parents from his mind.

He knew if Lavinia could hear his thoughts now, she would scold him for being so harsh on himself.

She was always trying to get him to see all that he’d accomplished, to feel proud of himself, but he never could.

He would never feel good enough for himself, either.

It was different for her. She could rob a bank and her parents would be proud of her for pulling off such a complicated task.

They always looked for anything to be positive about, and Lavinia was like that too; she kept her chin up.

Everyone in her family had love to spare, which was why Theo was always going over there.

In his house, he felt like he had to beg for scraps.

The Williamses didn’t mind him hanging around, neither before nor after Alfie was born.

He remembered that her parents tried having another kid for years, and then finally Alfie was born—Lavinia always told him that she would have a baby brother or sister one day.

She told him with such surety and excitement, which was something he had found astounding at the time.

His parents didn’t want to have him, and when he was around nine, his mother, Amaya, had gotten pregnant again, and he remembered hearing his parents talk about it.

He was so excited. Until, one day, she told him she wouldn’t be having a baby anymore.

He still remembered the way she had sunk into the couch, relaxed, as if she had dealt with something that was bothering her.

She had been stressed before then, he knew that, but he had been so happy at the thought of a sibling, he hadn’t cared that Amaya seemed unhappy. He always thought that if he had a sibling, he could have a partner in crime—someone of his own.

He had been overjoyed when Beena got pregnant the next year, and he knew with certainty that she wouldn’t terminate the pregnancy because Beena and Garrett had wanted another baby for years.

Everyone was so excited; he could tell both of Lavinia’s parents were happy, as if they were getting the greatest gift they could have wished for.

He always wondered what it might be like for children who were so purely wanted , and then he saw for himself when Alfie was born.

Garrett and Beena loved each other so fully, and from that love, a child was born.

Theo thought he might be envious, but he wasn’t.

He loved Alfie, too, and the Williamses all had love to spare.

He spent even more time there, wishing he could just stay there forever.

Theo’s family life was tumultuous, so he was always hiding out with Lavinia and her family.

She had always been the one good thing in his life, the one constant.

He had football and baking and other friends, but Lavinia was always his main source of happiness, the reason he stayed sane amidst everything else.

He took Lavinia’s scrunchie off his wrist and went back to his room, sliding it into his bedside table’s drawer.

He needed to stop whatever thoughts or feelings were going on deep inside of him.

Maybe he was simply getting mixed up, imagining that he had romantic feelings for Lavinia when he didn’t.

And even if he did, it wouldn’t matter, anyway. Lavinia wasn’t interested, and he wouldn’t jeopardize their friendship.

He couldn’t.