Cake and Ice and Aliens

Family

Photo by pure julia on Unsplash

Lemon cake was the family mood stabilizer, conversation starter, source of pride. 

Bob Lacynski was the master of the lemon cake-his own style, bastardized and mutated so that there was no other cake like it. 

The center layer was almost marmalade, the top glaze recipe protected and guarded like government UFO evidence.

Matthew Lacynski hadn’t touched the lemon cake.

He sat crouched, like a jockey in the final turn, rocking rhythmically.

A hockey game he had wagered on was in overtime.

Bob couldn’t tell you the names of the teams, but Matthew could tell you the middle names of the equipment managers.

He could tell you who was most likely to score on a Saturday before 4pm and a Tuesday if the team was playing on the west coast.

Bob didn’t know how much money Matthew had riding on this game though he assumed it was part of a parlay, the layers and nuances of which put Bob’s lemon cake to shame.

Cassidy Lacynski pulled into the driveway.

Bob looked through the window at their daughter.

The odd asymmetrical haircut she wore now looked cute on her, the plain gray tunic with its unflattering hem did not. The cute clutch they got her was gone, replaced with a burlap bag that hung from her shoulder.

She had traded in the Audi Bob and Matthew had gotten her for graduation and bought a plain GM sedan from the fleet of the Cosmophilandraphilists. 

The taste of that name couldn’t be washed from Bob and Matthew’s mouths with lemon cake.

When Cassidy was little, her dance troupe had performed on America’s Got Talent. Of the twelve girls, Channel 7 News reporter Deeta Rownley had chosen to speak to Cassidy.

A still shot of that moment was framed in the hallway.

Matthew Lacynski let out a gurgle. Something on that sheet of ice wasn’t going his way.