Chapter 6: The Spice of Life

When Sofia walked in the front door of her mom's house, her eyes immediately began to water.

Coughing, she reflexively stepped back and slammed it shut, waving a hand in front of her face until the acrid cloud dispersed. Even the brief exposure was enough to have her doubled over.

What is she even making?!

Steeling herself, she pulled her shirt up over her nose and mouth. Then, she dove back inside.

If Sofia had to choose one word to describe her childhood home, it would be "eclectic." A mishmash of antique furniture, travel souvenirs, and art pieces from every era filled the house from wall to wall, floor to ceiling. There was hardly a visible space that wasn't occupied by some relic or conversation piece with a deep story behind it.

Sofia knew most of those stories, of course. Not all of them, she wasn't some sort of encyclopedia. But she did know that the ornately-carved obsidian tapir with glasses was a relic from the Russian Empire, one commissioned as a joke gift for a Duchess. Yet despite all that, her home never felt like a museum where one was meant to look and not touch. In fact, while growing up Sofia had played with more than a few relics and historical pieces like common toys. It was about as far away from one of those pristine show houses as one could possibly get.

The house never had a shortage of things to look at. Of course, even if she had wanted to take the time to inspect anything further, the faint haze that stung her eyes and lungs would've made it a markedly less pleasant experience.

"Is that my Sofie I hear?"

Coming around the corner, she spotted the source of the offending cloud. A slight woman with vivid green eyes stood in front of the stove, an apron patterned with daffodils and tulips layered atop her crisp button-up shirt. Her wavy gray-brown hair had been pinned up into a neat bun kept in place by a decorative wooden hairpin.

She was stirring a large stockpot of something that would have smelled divine if not for the weapons-grade levels of capsaicin it spewed into the air. The haze was dense enough that Sofia had almost mistaken it for smoke.

"Welcome home, dear!" Her mother beamed, her eyes crinkling with delight. She seemed entirely unaffected by her own creation's effects. "How was your first day?"

Sofia didn't trust herself to speak—not here. At her red-eyed squint, her mother's expression shifted to one of confusion. "Why are you—? Oh! Oh, dear. I've done it again, haven't I?"

Sofia nodded wordlessly, her eyes still burning. Her mother was a good cook—great, even. At her best, she could make dishes that would rival any restaurant of any cuisine. But a lifetime of practicing chemistry had taken its toll—particularly on her nose. It meant that she had a tendency to get a little… overzealous with her seasonings. Especially when it came to spicy things.

Her mother smiled sheepishly. "Well… I suppose you won't be wanting any curry, then. Here, let me fix that."

The woman covered the pot and flipped on the kitchen's high-powered fan. Sofia felt her hair flutter about her face as the air was sucked out of the room, only to be replaced with something far more breathable. In moments, the kitchen had returned to normal.

Sofia sighed with relief, letting her shirt fall from her face. That was one thing she'd definitely missed about this place. She had yet to find a fan that was as fast or effective as her mom's—something that certainly would have come in handy when her suitemate burned that bagel to charcoal. But not everyone held the things to the same exacting standards as a lab chemist.

"Thanks, mom."

"Of course! Though I'm surprised it affected you so much. I swear I only put in a few extra chilies…"

"How many is a few? Three dozen?"

"Oh, goodness no!" Her mom looked scandalized. "Maybe two dozen at most. Just enough that I could start to taste them. Really, I thought you'd be proud of my restraint."

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Sofia shook her head in dismay, then headed for the pantry to forage. Her mom called over as she searched for something to eat.

"So… you never answered! How was your first day?"

"Pretty good," Sofia answered, pulling out a loaf of bread. Sniffing it, she wrinkled her nose. The airborne spice had permeated the plastic and infected the loaf itself. Setting it back down, she resumed her search. "Tiring, though. Kids can be… kind of troublemakers…"

Her mom chuckled. "Oh, they certainly are. What do you expect with all that energy? Though I will say, you were a fairly well-mannered child. You must have gotten it from your father—it certainly didn't come from me… I was a bit of a terror."

Sofia glanced over to the corner of the room. A small shrine stood there, tucked away amongst the riot of colorful bits and bobs. Its centerpiece was an old black and white photo of a tall man with kind eyes and a rather impressive handlebar moustache.

She looked away from the memorial, closing the pantry and turning to root through the fridge for leftovers. Pulling out a tupperware of cold beef stew, she stuck it in the microwave to warm it up.

"...And what about your coworkers?" Her mom asked. "How are you getting along with them?"

"Good. I've only met most in passing, but the teacher i'm working with is really nice. A bit out there, but nice."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. She's kind of a hippie type? Really good at her job, though. I don't know how she gets the kids to listen to her like she does…"

"I'm sure she just has more experience. Oh, how's Ginger doing?"

"She seems good. Stressed, though. And busy."

"Oh, that's just how she is." Her mom waved a dismissive hand. "Trust me. She's been stressed as long as I've known her…"

The pair chatted until Sofia's soup finished reheating. Pulling it out, she excused herself and headed for her room.

"If you'd like dessert, I'm making ice cream bread later!" Her mom called as Sofia began climbing the stairs."

"Maybe! We'll see!" As good as it sounded, she wasn't confident that the confection would escape the miasma of spice currently permeating the kitchen unscathed—especially once her mom resumed cooking and unleashed it once more.

Shutting the door behind her, Sofia slumped into her desk chair with a long sigh. Cardboard boxes of belongings she still had yet to unpack lay stacked against the walls and cluttered up the floor.

Finally. Time to relax.

Despite having grown up in it, she couldn't help but feel that the room was a bit claustrophobic now. She'd lived on campus during college, and while having roommates certainly had its downsides, it had gotten her used to a certain level of autonomy and privacy. One that was distinctly lacking when she'd graduated and moved back in with her mom.

It wasn't as bad as it could have been. Her mom tried not to be overbearing, of course, and gave Sofia as much space as she could. But it was still difficult to get used to this kind of living situation again.

I just need to save up a bit of money. Then I'll move out and get my own place—with roommates if I have to.

Sofia loved her mom to death, of course, but there was no way she wanted to live with her forever.

After scarfing down the soup, she collapsed into her bed. For a long while, she simply stared at the ceiling.

…I hope I'm cut out for this.

It wasn't that she was particularly interested in being the best daycare teacher in the world or anything. After all, this wasn't something she planned to turn into a multi-year career or anything. But at the same time, she didn't want to fall short.

My mom gave me an awesome opportunity, and Ginger gave me a chance despite my lack of experience. The least I can do is try my best.

That wasn't the only reason, of course. The idea of failure, of letting people down, also terrified her. She didn't know entirely where that fear came from. Perhaps she had some repressed trauma from her formative years that she'd locked away deep within her mind. Or perhaps it was just the normal, bog-standard flavor of fear that most people enjoyed. Whatever the case, she still wanted to avoid it.

That means that I'll have to work twice as hard, though. I need to catch up first, then show that I can excel—even at something like this. And I'd better do it quick, before they start getting second thoughts about hiring me…

Sofia shook her head. Now that was an unreasonable fear. People didn't just get fired willy-nilly like that. She'd have to mess something up pretty bad to bring that upon herself. Then again, these were kids she was working with. If one of them got hurt or she spoke just the slightest bit too sharply, the maybe…

…I'm overthinking it. Probably

It would probably be smart to keep looking for other jobs, just in case. But she could use a break from the slog of applications for a while. Maybe in a few weeks she'd get back to it.

Sofia spent a bit of time browsing idly on her phone, indulging in a bit of mindless entertainment to wind down. Before she knew it, she was fast asleep, her dreams full of dragons and gingerbread houses.