Relationships are like recipes. At their core, they consist of ingredients that may either complement each other or clash. The result can be sweet, sour, salty, or spicy. Sometimes, one can use the ingredients as they are, while other times, one needs to work on them by altering them in various ways. Just as one can tell if something is rotten or fresh by cutting into it, one can also sense the nature of a relationship. Creating something worth savoring takes time.

"So you're talking to him now," Thiane asked.

"Yes."

"Just talking?"

"Yes."

"Why don't you go on a date?"

Thandie sighed, "Thi, it's not that simple. Royal isn't doing well. He's barely talking to me. I can't add a man in their life right now."

"Tha, Royal will always be like this. No man can take his dad's place. You need to make him understand that it's not your plan. You're not happy alone. You're the type of person who needs a middle part."

"When did you become a life guru?"

"Since I read Happy Alone by Kenneth Mosely," Thiane replied.

"Never heard of him."

You know, the guy who is dating one of my favorite authors. I'm sure I've already told you about him."

Thiane followed writers like some follow idols. She read multiple books and was probably the smartest of the Olamide kids. She went to all the book fairs seeking new authors.

There, she told Thandie about one of the most trending topics in her book world: Daye Yeni x Kenneth Mosely and how they fell in love despite a magnitude nine incompatibility.

Thandie looked about. She didn't want any staff eavesdropping on her lunch break conversation. "So basically, you're telling me. I shouldn't give up on a guy who isn't my type because he could be my type, but I'm just using my kids as a pretext."

"Oh, you're growing up so fast. I'm proud of you, Tha."

Thandie kissed her teeth, "You're lucky we're on the phone."

"Relax, Tha, don't stress over this."

No, Thandie wasn't stressing over it. She had hundreds of other things to consider, like her growling stomach, which she left unfilled to save money and the reality she could no longer deny. The house was too expensive. She needed to move out of her neighborhood.

Thandie had already begun mourning the house and was approaching a stage where she started to imagine herself somewhere else, but her kids were clueless. Hence, she apprehended their reaction. They had never known anything other than the calm residential area they lived in. The children were used to having a garden and space.

How was Thandie to announce this to them?

"Tha, are you listening?"

"Ah, hum, you were saying."

"I was saying you should get to know him more. You're entitled to be happy."

Thiane hung up, and for some reason, Thandie couldn't get Mary J. Blige's Happy lyrics out of her mind:

How can I love somebody else
If I can't love myself enough to know
When it's time
Time to let go

All I really want is to be happy,
Find a love that's mine; it would be so sweet.

If only Thandie thought.

In life, there was no prince, no one to whisk one away from their struggles. Thandie only had her, herself, and she to find a solution, but Thandie couldn't see through the layers of her problems.

The mother had too many goals and knew she wouldn't achieve them all: Moving out, supporting her children, making them happy, finding love, and making herself happy. Somehow, the equation didn't add up.

"What's your passion?"

One couldn't think of such things in her situation. It was the trivial idea one had when they had nothing else to think about.

Callum had a fulfilling life. How could he be interested in someone like her?

There were millions of beautiful and younger women he could seek.

Why did he want her?

The question piqued Thandie's curiosity, and she decided to pursue her rendezvous under the moonlight despite the obvious drawbacks.

"Hi."

"Hi, I told you I'd bring chairs."

"And I the snacks," Callum replied, bringing out a picnic basket from behind his back like one does a surprise.

Thandie looked at Callum's smile and the basket he held. His aura radiated with happiness, and his attitude towards the moment positively impacted Thandie, who felt less tense.

"What have you got in your basket?" Thandie asked once she unfolded her chair.

Callum put down his basket and unfolded the chair Thandie handed him, "Crisps, peanuts, grainless grapes, apples, dried fruits, and mignardises of my confection."

"Mignan-what?" Thandie asked with a quizzical smile.

"Eh, they're. How can I translate this? Delicacies, mini pastries. Mignardises is the French word for it."

Thandie cocked her head, "I see. Do you speak French?"

Callum cleared his throat; his ears were piping hot. "Eh, yes, but very badly," he said.

Thandie grinned, "Go on, let me hear some."

Pebbles covered his eyes, imagining the worst.

Callum, you dunce, why did you say that? " the man yelled internally. "I haven't spoken in years," Callum said, sitting down, hoping Thandie would let him go.

"Go on."

"Eh," Callum cleared his throat, "vu-avez des jolie chevaux."

Thandie blinked once and burst out laughing, "You just said I have a pretty horse."

Even in the moonlight, Thandie could see how the man's skin went from pale to Magenta pink."

"It wasn't what I meant to say."

Thandie opened her palms, "I know. Where would a horse come from?"

Her laugh was contagious, and Callum felt his lips curve to smile, too. It was the first time he saw the woman laugh, and Callum wished he could see her harbor such an expression more often.

Callum slicked his hair back with one hand, "How do you know I said horse? Do you speak French?"

Thandie slid her hands on her knees. "Like everyone I studied at school, many relatives live in France and Switzerland. Also, there are many French in Nigeria."

That's information, thought Callum. He knew Thandie had African heritage but could never guess the country in a million years.

"Go on," say something, Callum prompted, feeling revengeful.

"First of all it's cheveux, not chevaux. What can I say? Je m'appelle, Thandie. J'ai quatre enfants."

It was primary, but her accent wasn't as broken down as his.

"What else?"

"J'habite ici. Tu as de beaux yeux."

"I could say that," Callum protested.

Thandie cocked a brow, "really?"

"No, I'm terrible at languages. That's why I became a maths teacher."

"Wow, wait a minute." Thandie said, sticking her hand out to halt, " A teacher. You were a teacher?"

"Yes," Callum placed the basket between them, took out the crisps, opened it, and stretched it to Thandie.

Thandie took a handful. "hum, salt and vinegar."

"Hate it?"

"No, I love it," Thandie replied.

"I didn't have time to prepare something elaborate."

"You made the mignon-things."

"That's not much. Want to taste one."

"I don't like sweet stuff."

"They're not all that sweet."

Callum wanted Thandie to taste them so bad his face literally screamed the words while Thandie continued to munch.

"So you were a teacher?"

"Yes."

"And you became a baker instead."

"Yes.

"Why?"Thandie was confused. She didn't understand the switch, only reflecting on the employment security teaching offered.

"Because it became overbearing," Callum replied.

"You got tired of the kids."

"No, I was too invested, and it shattered me. One of my pupils killed himself.

His expression and voice changed as though the happy-go-lucky Callum had gone for a stroll and left a stand-in. The solemness of the moment made Thandie shiver.

"Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry, Callum."

"Anyway, that happened, and I needed a new purpose."

"So you became a baker," Thandie said, jumping on the occasion Callum left to divert the conversation.

"I found something else I was more passionate about."

Callum was more complex than Thandie first imagined. Thandie felt drawn by it. "That's admirable."

"I just ran away. I'm a wimp."

"No, you're not. Teaching is challenging. I'm struggling with four kids, and you had hundreds of pupils."

"I remember every single one of them." Callum sighed and looked at the sky, "I loved teaching."

"It was a true vocation then."

No wonder Callum wasn't put off by her kids. Things made more sense for Thandie. She, who thought only men with kids could be attracted to her, discovered that those who worked with kids weren't afraid of a woman like her. Thandie wondered if Callum wanted children, for liking them didn't mean wanting them around for the rest of one's life. She wanted to ask the question but feared its misinterpretation. According to her, the man could think she desired to start something when it was mere curiosity.

"How was your day?" Callum asked after the short silence.

"Not good enough to boast about it. How was yours?"

Callum popped a grape in his mouth before saying, "Longer than usual."

Thandie frowned, "Why?"

"Guess I was looking forward to our picnic."

Thandie swallowed the peanut whole and coughed.

"Are you alright?" Shit, Callum thought, realizing he didn't bring anything to drink, "I'm coming back," he said while Thandie cleared her throat.

Thandie leaned back on her chair. What was wrong with him? Did Callum even realize what he said? Thandie thought, turning to look back at his house.

Everything in Callum's sentence was wrong, from the "looking forward to" part to the "our picnic."

How could he say such things so casually, and what was wrong with her heart? The peanut must have given her a near-death experience, for it galloped like a rodeo horse.

In the meantime, Callum opened and closed his fridge. It held no beverages except water. He needed a second option but took an instant to reflect on his actions. His words surpassed his thoughts, and he almost saw Thandie's soul leave her.

"Calm down, Callum. Play it cool," he murmured when a sentence popped into his mind: Tu as de beaux yeux.

His ears scorched, and his freckles paved his face like cobblestones.

Did Thandie really say he had beautiful eyes?

Nah, it was the fruit of his imagination; it had to be, yet he couldn't shake off the sentence, regain his composure, or make Thandie wait any longer. Callum grabbed what he could and walked back out. Thandie arranged her posture and tried to look poised as she heard his footsteps near.

"Here, I have a water or very cheap and tasteless Lambrusco."

"I'll have the tasteless wine," Thandie said, thinking she needed a drink.

Callum handed her a glass, sat down, and put what he held down before unscrewing the bottle and pouring some for Thandie.

"Thank you."

Thandie, you fool, this is clearly date-like, she thought as she sipped. The wine wasn't as bad as Callum mentioned.

Callum poured himself a glass. None dared to look at the other until they both plunged a hand into the basket, and Thandie's hand touched Callum's.