The Twilight Twenty-Five

thetwilight25 dot com

Prompt: 15

Pen Name: Glitterb1234

Pairing/Character(s): Alice (+Jasper)

Rating: T

Word Count: 490

Photo prompts can be found here:

thetwilight25 dot com/round-eight/prompts

My mother had one simple solution for every problem: hot chocolate. But not just any hot chocolate. Godiva brand, made with milk, not hot water, stirred thoroughly and heated in the microwave for no more or less than two minutes and twenty-five seconds.

Above all, it had to be topped with four white marshmallows shaped like Christmas trees. They were only available in December, made by an obscure brand that even wasn't stocked in Costco, and Mom would bulk buy them online so that we had enough to last through every tragedy that might befall us in the next year.

We had hot chocolate every night for a week after my Nana died, and the every night Daddy kissed her on the cheek as he took his mug.

We had it when my little sister Cynthia was born two months early, and no one knew if she was going to make it or not. It was the first time Mom had indulged herself since she got pregnant, and although her smile was small, it was there.

When I broke up with my first boyfriend, she brought me hot chocolate at three on the morning because she heard me crying.

It was the first she made when we got home from the doctor's office on what we called The Black Day. That was the day my blood test came back. Acute lymphoblastic leukaemia. It was the most common type in children, aggressive but easily treatable, with an 85% survival rate. At 16 I was the oldest kid my doctor was treating, but the outlook was good. Still, there was a lot of hot chocolate during the two years of my treatment – when my hair started to fall out, or one of the little kids on my ward disappeared in the night and I'd knew they'd lost the battle against their own bodies. My mom used to sneak it in to me in a Thermos, with the marshmallows in a zip-lock bag in her purse so they wouldn't melt into the chocolate before she arrived. I was one of the lucky ones who made it into remission and never went back. But I never grew my hair long again.

My mom was my rock, my strength, my biggest cheerleader. Sitting at the kitchen at the kitchen table with her, sipping hot chocolate from her flowery mugs, all my problems seemed insignificant.

I stared down at the mug on the table in front of me, creamy brown, topped with four Christmas tree marshmallows. It had gone cold, and the marshmallows were partly melted, but I hadn't touched it. Jasper slid into the seat beside me and put his arm around my shoulder. I looked up at him, and just the sight of his had me tearing up for the millionth time today. He saw it coming and pulled me into a tight embrace.

"I miss her Jas."

"I know baby. I know."