Chapter 343: Chapter 343

Mendy stepped inside slowly, like she was half-expecting to be told she’d walked into the wrong place. Jasmine closed the door behind us and the warmth hit immediately, along with the low noise of the TV and a few overlapping voices from the living room.

Kayla slipped her coat off and hung it by the door without being told where anything was. She was getting used to this place faster than she realized. Mendy stayed near the entrance for a second, fingers brushing the hem of her shirt again before she let her arms fall to her sides.

“I’m gonna change out of my clothes,” Kayla said, covering her hotpants. “Be right back.”

Phew. Mendy was too busy checking the place out to see her cum-stained hotpants. That was a huge relief.

“Hey,” Kim said from the couch when she noticed us. She lifted her mug slightly. “You made it.”

“Morning,” Nala added from the armchair. She looked relaxed, legs tucked under her, phone forgotten in her hand.

Jasmine glanced at Mendy. “Coffee?”

Mendy blinked. “Uh. Yeah. If that’s okay.”

“Always okay,” Jasmine said, already turning toward the kitchen. “Cream and sugar?”

“Yes,” Mendy said quickly, then smiled, a little embarrassed. “Please.”

I kicked my shoes off and headed in after Jasmine. The coffee machine was already warm, lights glowing softly. She pressed a button and leaned against the counter while it did its thing.

“She nervous?” Jasmine asked quietly, not looking at me.

“A bit,” I said. “I don’t blame her.”

The machine finished with a soft hiss. Jasmine poured the coffee and slid the mug across the counter to me. “You bring her over. I’ll grab mine.”

Back in the living room, Mendy had moved a few steps farther in. She was standing near the couch now, eyes moving from face to face, taking everyone in again like she needed to re-orient herself.

“Here,” I said, handing her the mug.

“Thank you,” she said, wrapping both hands around it. Her shoulders dropped a fraction once she felt the warmth.

Kayla came from the master bedroom, wearing new hotpants. She sat on one of the couches and patted the spot beside her. “Sit. You’re making it weird by standing.”

Mendy let out a small laugh and sat. Not too close, but close enough.

The weather channel was on, muted, captions rolling across the bottom of the screen about snowfall and road closures. Kim glanced at it and scoffed. “They’ve been saying the same thing for three hours.”

“At least they’re consistent,” Nala said.

Minne’s door down the hall opened, and a moment later she stepped out, already changed out of her maid outfit into soft clothes. She paused when she saw Mendy, then gave a small nod.

“Hi,” Minne said.

“Hi,” Mendy replied, just as soft.

Minne walked over and took the armchair opposite the couch. She curled into it slightly, pulling her knees up. Delilah followed her out a second later, rubbing her hands together like she’d just finished talking for a long time.

“All good?” I asked.

Delilah nodded. “As good as it can be right now.”

Tessa appeared behind her, stretching her arms over her head. “She didn’t cry, so that’s progress.”

Minne shot her a look. “I wasn’t going to cry.”

“Sure,” Tessa said, sitting on the floor.

The mood stayed light after that. Someone turned the TV volume up a bit. Jasmine came back with her coffee and dropped onto the couch, exhaling.

Mendy watched the exchange, amused. “You’re all… very comfortable with each other.”

“That’s one word for it,” Kayla said.

“It took time,” Nala added. “And a lot of arguments.”

“And makeup sex,” Tessa said.

“Unnecessary,” Delilah muttered.

Mendy’s ears turned a little red, but she smiled into her mug. “Still. It’s nice.”

I nodded. “Nice or not. You’re stuck with us whether you like it or not. The storm just so persistent, huh?”

Mendy laughed quietly. “Okay. Then… I’ll stay.”

And just like that, she leaned back into the couch, coffee in hand, part of the room instead of hovering at the edges.

The room settled into that quiet kind of noise you only get when people are comfortable together. The TV kept talking about the storm, the coffee machine hummed every now and then when someone refilled a cup, and the couch creaked softly whenever someone shifted their weight. No one felt like rushing anywhere, and honestly, there was nowhere to rush to anyway.

Minne sat curled into the armchair, her hands wrapped around a mug she hadn’t really touched. She listened more than she spoke, eyes drifting toward the hallway every now and then like she expected bad news to walk out of it. Delilah stayed close to her, sitting on the arm of the chair, one hand resting on Minne’s shoulder like an anchor.

Kim leaned back on the couch and stretched her legs out. “I swear,” she said, “the last time I went grocery shopping before a storm like this, people were fighting over bread.”

“Same,” Jasmine said. “I saw two grown men argue over the last pack of eggs like it was gold.”

Kayla tilted her head. “People act like the world’s ending.”

“It kind of is if you’re out of coffee,” Nala said calmly, lifting her mug.

Another silence. Then, Mendy cleared her throat.

She smiled at that, glancing down at her own cup. “Minne showed me where everything was earlier. She was really sweet about it.”

Minne looked up at her, surprised, then nodded. “I… yeah. I didn’t want you to feel lost.”

“You did great,” Mendy said. “I still get lost in my own place sometimes.”

That earned a small smile from Minne, even if it didn’t last long.

Tessa, who had claimed the floor again, leaned her back against the couch. “So,” she said, looking around, “anyone else remember that time Evan tried to carry all the grocery bags at once and dropped half of them?”

I sighed. “That happened one time.”

“It was more than one,” Jasmine said.

“And dramatic,” Kim added. “Milk everywhere.”

“I slipped,” I said. “The floor was wet.”

“Because the milk spilled,” Kayla pointed out.

The conversation drifted like that for a while. Nothing important, just stories that filled the space. Jasmine talked about getting lost in a mall once and pretending she knew where she was going so no one would notice.

Jasmine suddenly sat up straighter. “Okay,” she said. “I’m bored.”

“That took longer than usual,” Tessa replied.

“No, like,” Jasmine continued, ignoring her, “I want to do something.”

“Define something,” Kim said.

Jasmine looked toward the kitchen. “We could bake a cake.”

There was a brief pause.

“A cake?” Kayla repeated.

“Yes,” Jasmine said. “A proper one. Not boxed crap.”

Tessa’s eyes lit up a little. “Didn’t you tell me that story about your neighbor?”

Jasmine grinned. “Which one?”

“The one who used to bake cakes every Sunday when you were a kid,” Tessa said. “You said the whole building smelled like vanilla.”

Jasmine laughed softly. “Yeah. Mrs. Halvorsen. She’d give me a slice every time I helped carry her groceries.”

“That sounds unfair,” Kim said. “Now I want cake.”

Mendy shifted on the couch. “I can help,” she said quickly, like she was afraid she’d miss her chance. “If that’s okay.”

“Of course,” Jasmine said. “Everyone helps.”

Minne hesitated, then Delilah nudged her gently. “You can just sit and watch if you want.”

“I… I can help,” Minne said. Her voice was quiet, but determined.

“See,” Tessa said, pushing herself up, “group activity. Perfect storm weather.”

We all moved toward the kitchen slowly, like no one wanted to break the calm by rushing. Jasmine took charge immediately, opening cabinets and pulling things out.

“Okay,” she said. “Flour, sugar, eggs, butter. We’re doing vanilla.”

“Classic,” Nala said, leaning against the counter.

I grabbed a bowl and set it on the island. Kayla rolled up her sleeves without being asked. Mendy stood close to Minne, watching what everyone else did before moving.

Jasmine cracked the first egg, clean and confident. “Now, the next one…”

Kayla measured the flour, tongue between her teeth as she leveled it carefully. “I’ve never baked from scratch before,” she admitted.

“It’s just following instructions,” Nala said. “Like everything else.”

Mendy stood near the counter, hands folded. “What should I do?”

I slid the butter toward her. “You can soften that.”

She nodded and started cutting it into smaller pieces, careful and focused.

As we worked, the kitchen filled with small sounds. The scrape of a spoon against a bowl, the soft clink of measuring cups, the low hum of the fridge when someone opened it. The TV could still be heard faintly from the living room, but it felt far away.

Tessa leaned over my shoulder. “You’re on mixing duty.”

“Why me?”

“Because I said so.”

I started stirring, slow at first, then more steadily as Jasmine added ingredients one by one.

Minne wiped her hands on a towel and stood beside Delilah. “It smells nice already,” she said.

“It always does,” Delilah replied. “Baking fixes a lot of things.”

Minne nodded, even if her eyes still looked tired.

Jasmine watched the exchange and smiled to herself before clapping her hands. “Okay. Batter’s almost done.”

Tessa leaned in to look. “Can I taste it?”

“No,” Jasmine said immediately.

“Just a little.”

“No.”

Tessa dipped a finger in anyway and licked it. “Too late.”

“Traitor,” Jasmine said, but she was laughing.

The batter was smooth and pale, thick enough to cling to the spoon. Jasmine poured it into the prepared pan slowly, tapping it against the counter to get rid of air bubbles.

I turned the oven on, the soft click and rising heat adding to the cozy feeling in the room.

Minne stood closer now, watching like it mattered. Maybe it did.

Jasmine slid the pan toward me. “Alright. Moment of truth.”

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