Could A Cookbook Be A New Beginning

Firstly, a big thanks to 'Ohdave1' for editing for me.

*****

Curled up on my bed, I let the pain grip tightly. My eyes no longer capable of stemming the salty tears. With the dam broken, they flowed like a cascade of painful memories. Loneliness ate away at my self-esteem. Sometimes, it felt impossible. Life piled misery on top of misery, and I wondered whether there would ever be an end to it.

Sorrow a constant companion, choosing the most inopportune moments to raise its ugly head. The feelings of resentment and self-doubt. The nasty awful taste of bile.

With the blankets now pulled tightly around me, the fresh smell of the crisp linen as my comforter. The lavender still present from the wash.

"Stop it," I mumbled unconvincingly. The tears a relief.

"Mum." The call filled with concern accompanied by the light rap on the door. "Are you okay?"

Wiping away the sniffles, I called out, "I'm fine baby. Go back to bed."

The door opened, and I glanced up from my duvet shield. "Marina..."

"No Mum, I'm not letting you cry yourself to sleep again." I felt her slide in under the duvet, her arms wrapping me tightly. Damn it, I was supposed to comfort her, not the other way round.

"Baby please, go back to bed."

"No way, Mum. You gotta stop this. It's not helping you."

"I know, but sometimes, I can't help it. I wonder if I made the right choice?"

"Yes, Mum. You did, you just gotta get out and meet somebody. Stop hiding in here."

"Easy for you to say," I replied trying to lighten the mood, our heads resting on each other's shoulders.

"Mum, come on. You've got it going on. You're smart, popular, attractive. You just have to open up instead of pushing people away. All my friends are envious. I got the hot Mum."

I laughed loudly and it felt good. My mood instantly brighter. "They wouldn't say that if they saw me now."

"They sure wouldn't. You don't gotta feel bad. Your life is good, our life is good. I'm happy, and so you should feel that as well."

"Good heavens Marina, how did a sixteen-year-old get so wise? Tell me that?"

"My Mum, she's pretty awesome aye. Like she's smart as. She always gives me great advice. She knows stuff."

I laughed again, and even in the dark late at night I felt lighter, the dark mood fading. "Thank you, baby girl. You're good to me."

"Mum, I'm only saying what you already know. We gotta get you a date."

"Oh yes, I see. You're going to play match maker, are you?"

"Will if I have to."

"I see, so any of the boys at school looking for an older woman?"

She laughed. "Oh hell no. We ain't gonna go there. Although, they'd all be interested."

"Stop it."

"Nah, serious Mum," she giggled conspiratorially. "They're all just a bunch of testosterone-driven hormones with legs anyway. You'd be wasted on them."

"Marina," I gasped, and she giggled. "What?"

We slept like that, her tucked up in front of me. Holding her so made me feel wonderful. The pain faded but it didn't stop the memories reappearing.

*****

"Eighteen, barely old enough to know anything. Only a couple of years older than Marina. Not old enough to know better.

I met Duncan when we were both at College. He was the boy all the girls wanted, which in reality is why I wanted him. Yes, I had to convince him that I was the one he wanted. It didn't happen over night, but it did happen.

We married when we found out I was pregnant. It created such a storm in our family. My father exploded and demanded we marry. Duncan's father wanted no such thing. He demanded I get an abortion.

Thankfully, Duncan and I were in love. We knew better than anybody what we wanted. Life wasn't easy for us. We had to live at his parents' house because Duncan was still going to University. Still studying.

That was the life I wanted. I had my own dreams and aspirations. Life...

You make your bed and you lay on it. Checkout chick at the supermarket, shop assistant. I got whatever jobs I could find. Anything to stop Duncan's father yelling at us. We were a financial burden he didn't want.

Funny how everything changed after Chelsea was born. Duncan's father changed overnight. He went from grumpy to elated proud Grandfather. Rather than fight with me, he showered us with gifts. Chelsea wanted for nothing.

My parents were just as bad, Mum came around every day. The little flat above the garage our little home. She showed me what was needed to be a good Mum. Not that she had to. She'd shown me that her whole life. She epitomised the word 'Mum.'

Marina came along not long after. The little flat overflowing. Duncan was shot straight into his father's business, and not at the ground floor. He went into a senior role.

Things moved quickly. It was obvious to everybody Duncan was a chip off the old block. He was passionate and hard-working. He probably worked harder than his father. Together they pushed what was a small company making cardboard boxes into a national giant.

At first, everything seemed impossibly wonderful. I loved the girls and adored playing Mum. I enjoyed cleaning, ridiculous right?

No, I cherished my days caring and nurturing my darling children. It also gave me time to embrace my other passion. Cooking...

It was in a way a release, frustrations fading as I toiled over my mixer, kneading dough, stirring and cooking. Throughout my life, cooking had always been there. My Grandmother was an exceptional cook. My mother followed closely behind, and then there was me.

Anything to make Duncan's day better. Always a hot meal, never takeaways. The house spotless, everything in its proper place. Lawns mowed, gardens tended. It was me, I did it all. Anything to try and ease the stress for him.

He worked so hard to make a life for us.

Cooking... Recipes, they go hand in hand. Ever the custodian, I kept them all. Nan, now departed, I kept her beautiful image strong by writing out her recipes. I kept them all. The same for Mum, I took all of hers as well.

My recipe book had everything. Every day I chose a new one, making sure Duncan had a wonderful meal to come home to.

That was my life, trying to be the best I could be.

Cracks started appearing though, my perfect world degrading one crumbling grain of sand at a time. The passing of Duncan's father was the start of it all. Duncan taking over the firm, no longer guided by his father. We soon discovered that in some ways Duncan's father had been an anchor holding him back. His passing released Duncan, who charged ahead at full steam. He threw himself into building an empire.

With his newfound responsibilities, we started to see less and less of him. He was gone most days. Meetings all over the country, always chasing new business. Bigger contracts, more money.

The girls hated their father being gone, and I worked harder to fill the void. Every netball game, every play, every event. I made sure they were never alone.

It hurt having to take a back seat.

Alone most nights, I entertained myself with cooking shows and chasing new and interesting recipes from the internet.

"You know Lana, your recipe book. It is the envy of all of us," my friend Carol said innocently one day. "You should publish it, I'm telling you, girl. It would be a best seller."

A seed planted. That night I went through it carefully. There were some speciality recipes. One's I'd developed from Nan or Mum. It would need photos as well though.

A plan began to grow, my photographic skills were good. That came from ensuring Duncan got photos while he was away from home. Award celebrations, sports achievements. I filmed or took photos.

From that night forward, I picked my favourite recipes, and even if it was just the girls and me, I cooked the meal and photographed it, saving everything into a folder on the computer.

The girls were only ten, but full of questions. They loved the idea of a cook book and wanted to include their favourites as well. It grew quickly, the girls helping me every night. The three of us cooking up a storm, then photographing and collating.

*****

The cracks opened.

"Lana, what in God's name are you doing in there?"

"I'm taking photos of dinner."

"Why for God's sake?"

"Mum's making a cook book," Chelsea said proudly.

"What?"

"Darling, I got the idea from Carol. She suggested everybody loves my recipes. She convinced me that it might be marketable. As in selling it."

Duncan stared back at me open-mouthed. "Don't be ridiculous. You don't need to do that. The company is doing great. We've never been in a stronger position. You just focus on the girls and our home. Leave the rest to me."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Lana, just leave that alone. We don't need the money. I got it covered. If you need money just ask."

His tone really grated with me. "Duncan, stop. I wasn't doing it for the money."

"Then forget about it. You've got enough on your plate. Concentrate on the things that matter."

"Such as?" I asked miffed at his condescending tone.

"The girls, they're the most important thing." He looked at the girls who appeared a little disturbed. "Right girls?"

"Yes, Daddy," they both answered.

"See, now forget that nonsense about cook books. You're a great cook, we don't need to tell the world."

Later, when the girls were in bed, I couldn't help going back to our conversation. "Duncan, if the girls are so important, how come you've never been to one single award ceremony?"

"Lana, don't start that. I'm trying to build our future."

"Let me tell you something, Duncan. While you concentrate on our future, you're missing the present. The girls hate it when you're never there to support them. They hate having to make excuses why their father is too busy to go to a netball game, or a soccer game."

"I have to put the time in now. This is the time for us. We're expanding into Australia, we're going global."

"So the girls aren't really important. The business is more important?"

"Don't turn this into a fight, Lana. I'm doing this for us."

"No Duncan, no you're not. The girls are ten years old. Ten bloody years and you have attended not one single parent-teacher interview. Tell me now, if the girls are so important, how are they doing at school?"

"They are doing fine. If not, you would have said something."

"So the girls are my responsibility?"

"Yes, damn it, Lana. You're their Mother."

"And what are you then?"

"I'm the one that's paying for this house we live in. I'm the one paying for their education. If you want them to go to the best schools somebody has to pay for that."

"Duncan, you chose the school. I was quite happy for them to go to the local school. By the way, they would have been happy with that as well."

"This is ridiculous. We're fighting over nothing."

"The girls are not nothing. They're supposed to be the most important things in our lives."

"They are."

"Then how come you never see them? How many times over the last six months have you been here in our home more than one or two nights a week at the most? Sometimes less."

"I'm trying to make money so we can have a future."

"Duncan, sell the company now. We could live forever on the money."

"Sell..." he stared at me incredulously. "If you cannot have a sensible conversation with me, perhaps we should say nothing."

His icy cold glare told me our conversation was over.

*****

"Sweetheart, it looks amazing."

"Thanks Mum, I adore it as well. It's come up better than I could ever dream."

"What is your next step?"

"I downloaded a pile of names. Like publishing houses, and I'm going to send them copies in the hope somebody will be prepared to publish it."

"Well, sweetheart, they would all be mad not to. The photos are all amazing, and the way you have laid it out. It looks tremendous. The recipes are exquisite, and the book would be great just as a table adornment."

"I thought the same."

When Duncan walked in, we were all looking through the book. "What is going on here then?" he said as he threw his jacket over a chair.

"It's Mum's new cook book," Chelsea said proudly. "We helped her."

His face darkened, and the glower set in. "I thought I told you not to fool around with that notion?"

"Duncan, don't start," I said returning his glower with one of my own.

Mum looked shocked. Fighting was something Duncan and I didn't do. She quickly gathered the girls. "What say we go and get ice cream? The new dairy on the corner makes wonderful banana splits."

The girls brightened immediately and they soon scampered off.

"Lana, this is unacceptable. We talked about this and I remember you agreeing to shelve the idea."

"You remember wrong then. Yes, we did discuss it, but No... I didn't agree to shelve it. In fact, I've sent several test copies off to publishers to see if there's any interest."

"Good God, woman!" he snorted in disgust. "Will you not listen to me? I don't want you distracted. Your job is here at the home. You're supposed to be caring for our daughters."

"Duncan, I do everything for the girls. You are never here. They miss you and want you to be part of their lives. You should see the sadness on their faces when you never show up to important occasions."

"We have talked about this. I am building our future."

"No, you're not, Duncan. What you're doing is destroying our present. We have enough money. More than we could ever spend. What we need is you here more often. The bloody business has taken control of you. You're not doing that for us. You do it for yourself."

"Preposterous, I am trying to build a financially stable platform. Something the girls can pick up when they're ready."

"The girls?" I spluttered questioningly.

"Yes, I want one or both of them to take over from me. Keep it in the family."

"Duncan, at this point neither of the girls has shown any interest in the business."

"Then they will have to marry somebody who does."

"This is lunacy. I don't want to fight. I am going to seek out a publisher for my book."

"Lana, I am asking you to stop."

"Too late, Duncan. I have enjoyed writing it. I'm hoping to do several more if the interest is out there."

He stormed off, a dark cloud hovering over his head. It was unfortunately a sign of things to come.

Surprisingly, it took less than a month before I got a response. I had wondered whether I would get any interest at all. The shock for me was selecting the right fit. After meeting representatives and talking over options I went with a company that was well respected, whose name spoke volumes.

What attracted me to them was not the financial settlement, but the support they offered. They provided an agent to work with me. Together we planned the book release and several signings around the country.

Getting everything planned was easier than I thought. The hard part would be selling it to Duncan. A lovely dinner provided the perfect platform.

"Duncan my love, are you going to be busy on Saturday the twenty-second?"

"No, nothing planned," he said as he piled salad onto his plate. "Why?"

"We are having the cook book release party. I hoped you would be able to attend."

"Release... What nonsense is this?"

"I secured a deal with a publishing house. They have agreed to publish the book and are throwing a big release party for it. There are going to be some very important people there."

The happy bubbly mood around the table subsided quickly. "Why am I now only hearing about this?"

"I did tell you I was chasing a deal."

"A deal," he muttered. "What about the girls, who will look after them?"

"The girls are going to be there as well. After all my love, they did help write it."

"This foolishness has gone far enough Lana. You need to put a stop to it before you get too involved."

"Impossible now I'm afraid my love. I have signed a contract. I am now obligated to follow through."

I tried again later in bed. "My love, please. Can't you be at least a little happy for me? It has given me a new lease of life, something for myself."

"For you..." he said, the bitterness still hanging from every dripping syllable. "What about our life, our family, our home?"

"I will still be the same person I always was. Nothing will change in that regard."

"Rubbish, how can you say that? I understand business, Lana. You will have to commit time and energy. All of that will take away from what we have."

The mood darkened, and it never really lifted. He could be so resolute, so immovable. Perhaps traits that made him such a success in the business world made him hard to talk to about some things.

The cracks widened. He did attend the party after the girls piled on the pressure. He certainly didn't do it willingly, and he was a sour puss the whole evening. The release though did create a lot of interest.

*****

"What do you mean, Mother's staying for two weeks?" he blustered angrily.

"Duncan I have tried to explain. I will be away. I have book signing events spread all over the country for the next two weeks. Unless you are going to take time from work to look after the girls your mother kindly offered to stay and cover for me."

"Damn you Lana. I blasted well told you this was going to happen. I am not happy, not happy at all."

"I'm sorry my love. Welcome to my world. The one where I care single-handed for our family. Usually you are the one who's gone. It certainly won't do you any harm to spend some extra time with the children."

"I will not be able to take time off. We have very important projects in operation."

"Sad, business first. Family second."

"Home is your job, Lana. It's what's always worked. You are the one who is trying to change it."

"Two weeks, Duncan. That's all I'm asking for."

The little book tour really opened my eyes. I'd concentrated on our home and the girls for so long I'd lost touch with so much. Seeing the amount of interest shocked me. People really loved my recipes, and every event brought more and more positive feedback.

Every night I spoke to the girls and Andrea, Duncan's mother. She loved spending time with the girls. She did warn me that Duncan was in a foul mood.

Returning home was amazing. The sales were good. For such a small thing it really energised me. It wouldn't make us super wealthy, but it did make a small profit.

What came afterwards changed things though.

It came from the girls. They were social animals. They lived on social media. One evening I found them both staring at something on Chelsea's tablet.

"All right, what's captured your interest?"

Marina glanced up unwilling to take her eyes off the tiny screen. "It's like a cooking show, but it's not."

Leaning over behind them, I watched as a woman in a kitchen prepared a meal cameras capturing her every move.

"Mum, this should be you," Chelsea gasped.

"Yes!" Marina said joyously. "Your recipes are better than these, Mum."

"Then why are you watching?" I asked with a smirk.

"She's funny and really awesome, but you could do better."

"Could I just?"

"Heck yes," Chelsea said. "Imagine our kitchen, it's huge and so much better than that one."

Over the next few days, I kept going back to that channel and watching. It certainly looked like fun. Could I do it, how would I make it work?

Funny how things work sometimes. Talking to the agent the publisher provided, I mentioned it in passing. Suddenly, we were actually talking about making it happen.

They developed my web site,linking it with several social media platforms.

Surprisingly, the girls were my support team. They lived constantly with their phones and social media was their thing. They showed me all the popular sites and chefs. The down side... There were literally thousands already doing similar things.

To make a difference, I would need to be better than good.

Every day my kitchen got turned into a studio. Four cameras at different angles captured everything.