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"She gave up on my room," he says. "The parents let her. Once in a while when my dad wants something to be pissed off about he sticks his head in and yells at me about my floor."

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Bella snickers quietly, and trots down the stairs towards the kitchen, sniffing the air for maple-caramel-coconut-butter-cake.

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Grinning, he follows.

When they reach the kitchen, Hilary is arranging the various layers along the counter.

"Just in time to be ordered around some more," she says without turning around.
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"Yes ma'am!" Bella says smartly.

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"That's what I like to hear! You get to handle the caramel. Laney, you can haul cake around."

"Sure," he says cheerfully.
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Bella handles caramel. She stubs her toe once, and her hands are covered with caramel; if a coin appears, Alice can't see where.

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He does notice the toe-stubbing, and spends a brief moment wondering if she managed to make any coins out of it. There aren't that many places one might have appeared. Maybe she didn't. Or maybe it went to a place that is conducive to creating more coins and wow he is stopping that train of thought right there. Luckily, he has cake-lifting to distract him.

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Frost frost frost. Ice ice ice. Hum hum hum. If Bella's new coin exists and is making her uncomfortable, this doesn't show on her face.

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Good! That means he can just forget about it. Forgetting about it is a great plan.

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Bella isn't very good at icing rosettes like those that go on the outside of this cake - it's not a task friendly to slippery hands or shaky arms - so she lets Hilary do that, but she watches the technique carefully.

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So does Alice!

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And with all the roses in place, the adventure cake is complete.

"Mm," Bella says. "Is this for after dinner?"
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"Yes it is," says Hilary. "And you can take some home, too, if that strikes your fancy. In the meantime, who wants to help me make spaghetti?"

"Me!" says Alice.
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"Is spaghetti a multi-person job?" Bella asks. "I'm happy to help, especially if this is fancy Hilary-the-cake-goddess spaghetti, but I'm not sure how extra hands would be useful."

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"It is fancy spaghetti," she says, "and I'm sure I can find a use for you."

"By help she mostly means get in her way and learn things," Alice translates.

"That too."
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"Ooh, learning things," says Bella. She has her notebook in her pocket. She removes it from her pocket.

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"I don't know why your father won't let you do this the rest of the time," Hilary mutters, presumably not to Bella, as she fetches another cookbook.

"Because he is kind of an asshole?" suggests Alice.

"No comment." She puts the book in the book-holding contraption.
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"You're not allowed to cook when he's home?" Bella asks. She peers at the recipe. Huh, fennel seeds.

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"Nope. Too girly," Alice says succinctly.

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Bella blinks.

"Housewifery is traditionally girly. Chefs are traditionally men."
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"I tried telling him that," says Hilary. "And yet."

Alice shrugs. "Maybe he thinks I like it for the wrong reasons."
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Since Bella herself has critiqued some of Alice's behaviors on the grounds that he likes them for wrong reasons (among others), she doesn't have a good reply there, at least not when Hilary's around.

She just sighs an exasperated sigh and hopes there's a hex in the stash.
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Making spaghetti with Hilary is both fun and informative. She clearly gets along very well with Alice, and he is clearly very fond of her.

At last, it's all done and ready to eat.

"Laney, would you go grab your mother for me? Bella, help me carry everything to the table?"

"Sure," says Alice, and departs.
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Bella ferries dishes, inhaling appreciatively.

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Hilary handles the enormous pot of spaghetti herself, perhaps because she fears that Bella might drop it, and arranges the plates; she lets Bella take care of setting out cutlery and bowls of sauce. No place is set at the head of the table, but there are two places along each side, to a total of four; apparently, Hilary gets to eat with the family tonight.

By the time they're finished, Alice is back with his mother in tow.
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