Tuesday, 4:50pm
"Jamila stop acting like a crazy lady this minute!"
"Excuse you! You started this fight and I'm ending it!"
"Jams, put the bowl down!"
"No! I refuse."
"Then this is World War III!"
"Bring it on you goat!"
"Prepare to diiiiie!" Aliyah appears from behind the counter and starts throwing flour at her.
"Arrrrgh!" Jamila ducks and shoves the stool in front of her as protection. She grabs the icing bowl and flicks it at her cousin. The fight continues for another minute or so until Aliyah is out of flour and they're both breathing heavily on either side of the counter. Every few seconds they peek at each other to see if the other is on guard or ready to attack.
"I'm out of ammunition."
"Finally." Jamila laughs.
"Truce?"
"Truce." The both of them rise slowly and take in the disaster they caused. The kitchen island is flooded with baking ingredients, fruits, utensils, bowls and trays. There are clouds of flour coating the floor decorated with dollops of icing, courtesy of Jamila. Even the pendant lamps hanging from the ceiling are stained.
"Have you written your will?"
"No, why?" Jamila is confused at the question.
"Because Khala is going to kill us." (Aunty, mother's sister). Jamila chuckles at her cousin's theatrics and dusts her t-shirt but it's pointless because she's covered in flour. "What time will they be back?" Aliyah asks while trying to lick the icing off her hair.
"An hour, I think." At that very moment the oven dings.
"Yay! The cake is ready." Aliyah exclaims and rushes to open it. "What's it called by the way?"
"Coconut Eton Mess Cake." Jamila smacks Aliyah before she can reach for the cake. "Wear the mittens you goof!"
"Right, sorry." She smiles sheepishly and complies. The fresh smell of vanilla embraces the kitchen as Aliyah places the round cake on the cooling tray. "Man, this is heavy."
"It's one kilo."
"Whoa! Are you trying to feed a village?" Jamila grins. Her cousin is a drama queen and she's the only person who can make her laugh every two minutes by doing the silliest things. Like right now; her eyes are wide, there's icing and flour on her cheeks, neck and cotton dress, her wavy hair is knotted on top of her head. She resembles a scarecrow but what does that make me? A scarecrow's cousin. Gross.
Aliyah is also 22 but a few months older than Jamila. She's always been like a fun older sister to her. She graduated with a degree in English Literature and has a tendency to re-enact scenes from her favorite books. Which is one of the reasons why Jamila is always entertained around her.
"You can take some home."
"Fatih will eat the whole thing."
"It's not done yet." The next ten minutes are spent decorating the cake with butter cream, strawberries, passion fruit, oranges, macaroons and edible flowers. "Voila." Jamila steps back and smiles at the masterpiece in satisfaction.
"It's beautiful." Aliyah admires. "You did a great job, Ma Sha Allah." (Allah has Willed it).
"We did a great job."
YOU ARE READING
Under That Scarf (Editing)
SpiritualJamila is fresh out of college and is eager for a job. Her passion lies in psychology and social work. She can never say no and her family knows this all too well so when her mother drags her shopping, she tags along begrudgingly and comes face to f...
