After the last race, we headed to the city centre. My brother's mates insisted they knew a good restaurant. Never fussy, James and I were ready to eat. The restaurant offered fine Italian dining.
I ate tastefully filling food, a silver medal standard behind Arianna's impeccable cuisine. The dinner venue led me to mull on Ruby. Three courses provided plenty of time to chew over the brunette and the past.
The tiramisu for dessert cast my mind, and it netted a young Ruby baking a cake.
Not for me, nor Ruby herself. The cake was destined for Josh, and the brunette made it because Coral pretty please asked her.
The baking day was Easter Tuesday, 1970.
The restaurant closed for lunch on a public holiday. Coral, Ruby and I were in the kitchen at Il Piacere. My bestie encouraged Josh to see Max and tinker beneath cars because she wished the cake a surprise.
Ruby's parents were absent.
The sassy brunette said, "I have the kitchen without mummy looking over my shoulder; she's playing bridge!"
And swatting at the air, "Ugh, Dad. Anywhere but the confessional."
I idolised the restaurant kitchen—a professional engine room of fine dining. I adored its polished stainless steel workbenches and the shiny hanging copper pots. So homely, shelves bursting with unique rustic ingredients and appealing aromas.
Ruby's efficiency in the kitchen amazed me. However, the golden girl stalled the little minx's cake prep. Coral started rethinking Josh's birthday cake surprise.
"Don't you usually have your mind made up in advance, you prick-teaser," Ruby needled.
The brunette bustled to bake. A chef's cap and hair net hid her piled hair. The cap suited her, a professional touch, to a capable young cook. Her apron extending below her knees made her short.
Waving a wooden spoon at Coral, she ordered, "Choose immediately!"
"I made a choice," came Coral's defensive retort.
She kept twisting her hair, indicating constant changes in her mind about the cake. Coral suddenly picked up a wooden spoon and wagged it at Ruby. The brunette fluttered her lashes and waited.
Coral waved the spoon, "I planned the cake with Luke's input. Then I remembered Josh likes lamingtons."
I recalled planning the cake with Coral over the phone the previous evening. She finally decided on a themed cake for Josh, his first birthday as her boyfriend. Her design included green and white icing to represent a table tennis table. Utilising Ruby's skill, she hoped to add cute chocolate buds as the paddles and a white ball of chocolate as the ping-pong.
As soon as Coral and I arrived at the restaurant, Ruby agreed.
Coral dithered as she put on a hat and apron like me.
"Lamingtons are a slice, honey; what exactly do you want?"
Ruby gathered cake ingredients like flour and eggs. She organised me between her and Coral, selecting spoons and measuring cups from a deep drawer. Ruby held two eggs, ready to crack.
"Oh, I don't know," huffed a dithering golden girl.
She retied her apron, drawing the strings at her front across her tummy in a gorgeous flourishing bow.
Ruby cracked eggs in a bowl and mouthed, "And it is a long-term no; I'll never make your wedding cake."
"Make both Rubes," I suddenly requested, desiring Coral content.
The sparks flew from a feisty brunette!
Her cute blue eyes glared like twin steely daggers.
Her strident response pierced: "Not Rubes, from you, ever, unless you burst your shyness bubble!"
After this, as a teenage boy, I avoided using Rubes to Ruby.
"Cara Mia!" interjected Coral on my behalf, followed by a "tsk, tsk, tsk" of her tongue as she moved between Ruby and me.
"Settle petal," she remarked as she undid and retied Ruby's apron in the same eye-pleasing bow.
The brunette lost her nettle.
She agreed, "I can do both. Let's get cracking."
Ruby's skilful hands flurried in precise actions, especially as she cracked eggs and separated the yolks and whites. She allowed Coral and me to be her assistants in mixing the ingredients. Ruby poured the mixes onto baking trays and popped them into the nearest kitchen oven. Under detailed brunette direction, we washed everything.
The brunette consciously stated, "This is Mamma's kitchen."
Resting, we removed our caps and aprons. I thought the girls would gossip through the baking time. Instead, Ruby bent her head a long way under the workbench and pulled out a backgammon set. A rich dark leather wafted in a comforting, pungent smell. The game case overrode the warm baking scent.
"Okay, sweetie," she kidded Coral, unclipping the case, "This will keep you busy ''til the cake bases, cooks and cools."
"Geez, it's a fabulous vintage set," praised my bestie as Ruby set the pieces.
"Is it your dad's?" Coral pried, running her fingers over the soft leather.
Ruby shrugged, passed her girlfriend the dice cup, and only offered, "Roll, honey."
I enjoyed watching the girls play as their game styles differed. Ruby attacked; she positioned her checkers fast for bearing off. Coral bade her time, aiming to block her girlfriend's options. The brunette, who played the game a lot, used valuable runs of double-dice tosses to beat Coral twice.
The golden girl conceded.
She was never a massive fan of board games apart from Monopoly; she preferred playing cards.
Or better yet, dancing, listening to music or spreading her clothes to find new mixes and matches.
So, it was no surprise when she closed the backgammon case and piped, "Let me see if you have a decent dress."
"No," blunt from the brunette before she lilted, "I'll leave the flair and frills to you."
She fingered the edge of my golden girl's pleated short peach skirt and the sleeve edge of her white blouse.
Coral needed entertainment and persisted.
"Heels, girl! And you'll be amazing in a skirt," Coral exclaimed, "Have you got new shoes upstairs?"
Ruby planted her hands hip firm. She wore a faded pink t-shirt and equally faded jeans. The brunette arched on her tippy-toes in her flat black shoes and mimicked, in a fun way, Coral's swagger in heels.
Coral laughed as Ruby dissolved in a giggle fit before managing, "Honey, we love you in heels."
The brunette checked the baking through the oven's glass door. Ruby switched quickly to a matter-of-fact, immediate mind frame.
"We need to watch the cooking bases. We can't get distracted by going upstairs."
Coral slid the backgammon case towards me, grinned, and tendered, "Best of luck."