Chapter 20

Isn't it strange, journal? For the longest time, I just haven't had the energy to write in you. But now that things have settled down a bit, I can finally sit down and just take the time to reflect over the turns my life has taken. At least for a little while, anyway. There's only so much time I have in between working and taking care of my family. I know. That sounds so strange coming from me of all people.

I guess I should start at the beginning though.

Everything changed the day Cinnamon and I had our eighteenth birthdays. It was a small, family affair consisting of our parents and Parsley only. As we stood in front of our cakes, which dad had baked specially for us, we turned toward each other. As I met my twin's eyes, a mutual understanding flowed between us. Our lives would never be the same again. Things were going to change. I can't explain how we knew it, we just did. It's a twin thing, I guess.

I couldn't think of any wishes to make as I blew out my candles (after Cinnamon, of course, she being the elder twin). I don't believe in wishes anyway, so I guess it doesn't really matter, right? After all, life is what you make of it and all that jazz.

I can't believe how much my sister has changed. For starters, she finally got rid of the gigantic dork glasses she's worn throughout the majority of her adolescence and made the change to contacts. Thankfully, she picked clear ones so that the beauty of her eyes can still be appreciated. She also finally had the courage to grow out her hair again. Her soft, golden hair falls in gentle waves, framing her face. It's no where near as long as it was prior to the bubble gum incident, but who knows. Maybe someday it will be.

Cinnamon wasted no time in selecting a career. She headed on over to the theater and applied for a position there. She's as passionate about music as I am about cooking and I'm sure she'll get the big break she deserves someday. Maybe. Assuming there's no one better than her out there. Which there might be. Anyway.

Unlike Cinnamon, I don't think I've changed all that much except maybe my taste in clothes. I'd like to think that my style is a little more sophisticated now. More grown up. Not like it matters, really. Just like my sister, I knew what I wanted to do with my life. I think I've known since childhood. I wasted no time and maybe a day or two after hitting eighteen, I went to the local Bistro and applied for a position. When I first started, I was busing tables and occasionally mixing a salad or two, but I've made friends, surprisingly enough, with a few of the cooks and they gave me a few lessons on the sly, making it easier for me to advance a few rungs up the ladder to success. I spend so much time in my work clothes because of the long hours at work that my own personal style doesn't matter all that much.

Of course, I didn't only have professional goals. Meeting Johnny Espinoza and Maxwell Vermont changed the course of my life, making me yearn for personal, private goals that I'd never really had before.

I remember being nervous and regretting not having made a wish when I blew out the candles on my birthday cake. I'd donned my only dress and headed on over to Maxwell's house on a day that I knew Johnny and his parents would be out. I didn't want - or need - them to be around in case my plans backfired. Which they could have, of course, given Max's personality.

Max had changed too. He'd let his hair grow enough to cover up the numerous tribal markings he'd had shaved all over his head. When I'd asked him about them, he'd said that looking like a thug was what kept strangers away from him. An effective tactic, I'll admit, but one that he swears he doesn't need anymore.

I was well met upon arriving. Maxwell pulled me into a hug and cupped his large hands on either side of my face. I wrapped my arms around his waist, loving how solid and warm he felt. I can't believe how far he's come. From hardly uttering a sound above a whisper, he talks to me now and has a personality that shines with originality.

We held our pose for a little while, simply looking at each other and murmuring a word or two. Finally, I plucked up the courage (yeah, I know, this coming from me, the girl who always had audacity) to ask what had been on my mind for months. I asked him to marry me.

I closed my eyes, hoping that he wouldn't reject me. I felt Max's hands stiffen and I braced myself for what surely was to come. He was silent for a long time. I stood stock still, not knowing what to do. And then finally, his warm, deep voice spoke, "Chocolate... open your eyes."

My eyelids fluttered open and I chanced a peek at his face. He was smiling and his sea green eyes were shiny with unshed tears. His hands softened and slowly lowered, tracing along my arms, until he held my hands in his. "Of course I'll marry you."

We were wed right then and there, in the sitting room of his house. A quiet, private ceremony consisting of nothing but words of love. Sure, we knew that we would have to go and register our matrimony and get all the paperwork done in order for this to count, but we didn't care. It was our personal slice of perfection and paradise.

And as we held each other close, memorizing each other's faces, I realized that this was definitely the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Who would have thought that the wicked little girl I once was would want this more than anything else in the world? If someone had told me during my younger years that I would meet someone and fall in love and cherish them more than anything, I would have laughed and spit in their face and called them a number of horrible names. Hell I'll still do that. Just not when it applies to this. To Max. My other half.

Maxwell moved into the Savory household and took the Savory surname. He's always known that the Espinoza family was only a placeholder for him until he found his place in this world, which, as he says, is by my side. I wouldn't have minded becoming Chocolate Vermont, but he says that he's joining the Savory family as a permanent member rather than me joining him, a lone man. I could argue with this, but I know my family is happy that I won't be changing my surname. Honestly, I couldn't be bothered with all those formalities and stuff. All I know is that I was very much in happily wedded bliss.

But I wasn't the only one with marriage on her mind. I don't think a full week had passed before Cinnamon was proposing to Johnny. He squealed like a girl and accepted. Unlike me; however, Cinnamon decided to move into the Espinoza household. I guess it makes sense. She belongs there with his family just as Max belongs with me. I am sad though. Even though my twin and I never really saw eye-to-eye, it'll be the first time we've ever been apart. Up until my marriage, we'd always slept in the same room together. To think that she won't even be in the same house, twanging away at her guitar, anymore is hard. I guess I was wrong in thinking that I'd never really shared a bond with her.

Still, I relished in finally being the official head of the household. Oh don't get me wrong. Dad's still working in the medical field, saving lives and all that jazz so he's still the primary breadwinner. And mom? She quit her job at the local newspaper, claiming that although she loves writing and being in charge, the work was becoming too stressful for her to handle. So she quit. She's far from unemployed though. She took advantage of the new salon in town and became a Stylist so that she can express her artistic creativity. Mom's still very much an author though and is currently working on what I believe is her fourth book.

I don't exactly like being in charge of the laundry or anything, but I gladly accept the chores if it means that I'm in charge. I thought long and hard about removing all bits of technology from the house, as I had longed to do during childhood, but decided that the vile machines could stay. Mom and Dad still benefit from them, as does Parsley and even Max. But one day I promise to extract my revenge on all things technological, you can quote me on that.

Besides, I wasn't up to smashing the computers the way I wanted to. Just a few weeks after my wedding, my stomach started acting up. At first, I thought that there might be some spoiled food in our fridge. An impossibility, but something I had to check nonetheless. But as I'd thought, none of the food was spoiled. And it obviously wasn't my cooking. I'm not as good as my dad yet, but I'm not completely awful at it either.

So I read. Books have never done me wrong and always have the answers to every problem in our world. I looked up various diseases from the numerous medical terminology books that dad brings home, but nothing seemed to fit. Everyone, aside from Max and me, seemed to find my nausea funny and I often heard mom and dad whispering to each other and then glancing guiltily at me if they knew I was in the room.

I ignored them though. That sort of behavior is beneath me. This kept going on for at least ten weeks when at last, dad put a different book into my hands. I stared at the title. What to Expect When You're Expecting. I stared at him. Expecting what? Never one to turn down a book, I flipped it open and what I saw astounded me.

I was pregnant. Apparently mom and dad had recognized the symptoms from the very beginning and just hadn't bothered to tell me. The two had even placed bets on how long it would take me to figure out that I was pregnant, the jerks.

Naturally, instead of rejoicing with them over their impending grandchild, I went to celebrate with Cinnamon instead. My twin was genuinely happy for me, expressing just how excited she is to become an aunt when she let the bomb drop on me.

She's pregnant too! Unlike me, Cinnamon had known right away that she was expecting a little demon of her own and had apparently gotten pregnant maybe one or two weeks prior to me.

I shouldn't really be surprised, of course. We are twins and I guess we're doomed to do things together for the rest of our lives. Still, I never would've guessed that Johnny had it in him. Maybe he's more manly than I thought?!

Everyone was more than supportive of me, but none more than my Maxwell. I think I can honestly say that not a woman alive has ever received such tender, loving care from a daddy-to-be like I have. Max gave my sore back and tender feet massages every day, never once complaining that his hands were tired. Despite his shy and quiet nature, he expressed a vast interest in our children. That's right. I said children. Dad being a doctor is a great thing. Having had to go through the maternity ward during his clinical rotations, he knew how to tell the difference between genders and the amount of children. I was having twins. Fraternal twins.

And sooner than I could have ever expected it, the day of my labor came three weeks earlier than I had been expecting.