Chapter Twenty One - Cake is Cake…Normally

“Would ye care for more tea?” Lilly asked her well-to-do son-in-law. Here sat the future Thain in the kitchen of her humble home! At least it used to be a home--filled with laughter and simple jests. They never had much, but what they lacked in material things, they made up for in love. That is, until Lilas turned up pregnant, and was told to leave--never to return. Silas’ rash measures threw a wedge into his own family. When his tween-aged daughter and her tween-aged husband entered the house, Silas dramatically retreated to the bedroom, slamming the door shut.

Milas was not one of the hobbits who ran out to meet the prodigal daughter. Though he missed his sister just as his younger siblings did, he had stayed behind with his father, observing the meeting from the inside of the house. Presently, he stood--arms crossed--in the doorway of the sitting room, quietly watching the conversations taking place in the kitchen. Future Thain or not, Milas was still at the ready to defend his sister’s honor.

Dabo, the second son, sat at the kitchen table, occasionally participated in the exchanges; however, he was still unsure of what to think. Mister Pippin seemed pleasant enough--not like the other wealthy Smials folk whom he had heard held themselves in high regard. Sabo and Saborra, the younger tweens, crowded around their sister to hear her tales of Great Smials.

“…and I can knit now, Ma! Pippin’s Ma taught me.” Then she paused for full effect before continuing, “And I can read! My writing still needs work, but I’ve read a book!” Gasps of surprise were heard from her siblings. Except Milas. He remained standing as a warden in the doorway with a grim expression on his face.

Saborra was enthralled, “Mistress Took taught ye yer letters, too?”

“No--Pippin did that,” Lilas answered, taking another slice of her mother’s blackberry pie, licking her fingers.

“Seems yer doin’ grand at the Smials, Lilie,” said Sabo, using her affectionate name. He smiled, “At least yer not always in trouble with Pa anymore.”

Lilas laughed, “No! Now I’m always in trouble with Pippin!”

Pippin choked on his bite of blackberry pie. Lilas patted his back until he could take a sip of water. “Are ye all right, Pippin?” she grinned mischievously.

Pippin cleared his throat before replying. “You’re not always in trouble with me!”

“No, I was only joking,” she assured him--and her family. “Actually, Pippin is a good husband and I know he’ll be a great father, too.”

“Stand up, lass.” Lilly asked her daughter to turn a pirouette. “The babe’s growin,” she muttered. “I’ll be a grandma soon.” Her eyes misted over.

Lilas took her mother in her arms, whispering in her ear, “And I’ll sing t’ my baby just like ye sang to me when I was a wee girl.” She hugged her mother. “Ma, do ye think Pa will talk t’ me?”

Lilly looked through the sitting room, back towards the bedrooms and sighed. “Ye can try,” she answered, “but I don’t think he will.”

Lilas may have walked a ten miles as she made her way to her parents’ bedroom. Each step she took was an ominous pronouncement of pending rejection. But she felt she needed to try. With uncertainty she looked back at the waiting group of hobbits now in the sitting room. She knocked hard three times upon the thick wooden door. “Pa?” Lilas waited a minute before calling again. Still no answer. “Pa, I just wanted ye t’ know I didn’t mean t’ make ye angry.” She listened again. Silence. “Pa…?” Tears spilled from her eyes as she continued on, asking softly, “Do ye hear me?” The only sound that was heard after that was from Lilas; sniffling as she began to cry. The walls around her blurred as she began to walk away from the door. Dabo tried to intercept his sister, putting a hand on her shoulder, but she kept on walking.

Saborra helplessly gazed as Lilas walked by her as well. “Lilas…”

The only consolation Lilas sought was the comfort of her husband. Pippin met his wife in the middle of the sitting room and embraced her; holding her as her heart broke into pieces before her family. He was angry--but kept his tongue. All of this reminded Pippin of when Denethor admitted to wishing Faramir had died instead of Boromir. These two obstinate fathers were equally callous in Pippins view.

He whispered into her ear, “Let’s go home, Lilas.” Lilas’ mother and siblings all visited her at Bag End the next day, but Lilas didn’t go back to the little house with the pale red door.

* * *

The following evening, Sam had baked a cake on the occasion of Lilas meeting her family. No one was more pleased than Sam at the welcoming response--minus the scene at her father’s bedroom door. “Most Hobbiton folk are good at heart,” he remarked, slicing the cake.

Merry eyed one large piece that Sam had laid upon a plate and set aside. “Sam, I believe that particular piece of cake has my name written on it.”

Sam eyed the cake quizzically, “No, mister Merry, I don’t see your name written on it.”

Merry laughed, “That’s just something we say in Brandy Hall when we actually mean we that we want it.” He started to lay hold of the plate with the “special” slice of cake on it.

“Merry!” Frodo called to his cousin, “Give that piece of cake to Sam,” he winked. Frodo had been privy to a bit of inside information.

“Why?” It was Merry’s turn to be perplexed. “Cake is cake, is it not?”

Frodo grinned, “Normally it is, but not today.”

Pippin was now eyeing the large slice of cake. “Wasn’t it baked for Lilas? Perhaps Lilas would like that nice serving.” It was a ruse of course; Pippin was thinking more of his own stomach.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Lilas said. “Leave it t’ lads t’ fight and argue over a simple thing like cake!” She took the special piece of cake and another slice, heading straight for the sitting room. Sam gulped and ran after the pregnant hobbit, but was too late. The foursome stood in the doorway as Lilas sat down with Rosie in the sitting room to enjoy their dessert. Sam let out a long breath of relief when he saw Lilas hand the large piece to Rosie. The lasses talked in low volumes across the room while the lads gawked from the kitchen. Suddenly Rosie stopped eating. Her hand went to her heart, then her mouth, which was by now gaping wide open. Lilas smiled, watching Rosie hold up a golden bracelet, she got up and kissed the stunned lass, then took her own cake to finish it in the kitchen.

“So that’s why the cake was so special to you, Sam!” Merry grinned.

“I never would have thought to bake a bracelet into the cake,” Pippin remarked, staring at the treasure dangling in Rosie’s hand.

“I didn’t,” said Sam. “I dug out a bit of the underside of the cake and hid the bracelet beneath it.” Sam then stepped forward into the sitting room and sat down next to Rosie. “I spoke to your dad, Rosie. He gave us his blessing.” Sam bowed his head; unsure of how he should proceed, but his love for the lass sitting next to him surpassed any trepidation that lingered in his heart. He slipped off the couch and stood on bended knee, “Rosie Cotton, I’d be the happiest lad in the Shire--no, in Middle-earth if you were to be my wife. Will you marry me?” Their friends in the doorway held their breath watching and waiting for Rosie’s response. They didn’t have to hold their breath long at all.

Rosie fell onto Sam, holding him for dear life and kissed him. She spoke softly just for him. “I’d be the happiest lass in the Shire--yes, and in Middle-earth, to be your wife.”

Loud cheers erupted and threatened to break the crystal. Merry and Frodo came forward, congratulating and hugging Sam. Hugs and kisses were passed all around between the friends.

No one in the sitting room noticed right away that Pippin had remained in the doorway, eyes filling with tears. He would never know the anxiety of asking a lass to marry him. From inside the kitchen, Lilas noticed her husband delaying his good wishes to the couple. She set aside her dessert, getting up to stand next to him. They’d been married long enough for her to have an idea of what was bothering him. She slid her arm around his waist, “Don’t let our own troubles keep ye from sharin’ in another’s happiness, Pippin. They deserve all the blessings their friends will offer them. Don’t ye remember yer friends helpin’ with the nursery? They were blessing ye, Pip.”

Pippin sighed, taking her hand in his. “I seem to remember that our friends were blessing you, too.” He squeezed her hand, “How did you know about the cake?”

Lilas smiled, “We lasses have this thing--”

Pippin laughed, “The truth, Lilie!” He used Sabo’s fond nickname for his sister.

“I saw a bit of gold stickin’ out from under the cake. All ye lads were too busy arguing over the biggest piece t’ see it. I figured Sam wanted it t’ be a surprise, so I did what I did t’ keep it secret.”

Pippin took his wife into a tender hug, “You are a good lass, Lilas.”