Banana Bread Bunch

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Banana Bread Bunch
by [[*user mouseatemyhouse]]

It is recommended to read [https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-8388 SCP-8388] before reading this tale, but you don't have to in order to understand it.

Check out my new shiny [https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/mouseatemyhouse author page!!] It even has a list of kill agents on it!!
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------

Dr. Elaine Foster sat outside on the bench, holding her coffee without drinking it. Her eyes had caught someone across the street: a woman in a blue jacket struggling to control her umbrella in the wind. Even from a distance, she radiated that same warmth. Her waist length brown hair. The reflective hazel eyes. That flippant, carefree gait.

Nadine Porter.

No, it was Ms. Porter now. She would have no memory of Foster now, of course. Clean slate. The amnestics would've been thorough. Foster had read the report a dozen times more than was necessary. She hadn’t objected to her amnesticization. She’d approved it herself. Had to. Standard procedure for the [https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-8388 cured]. And still, something about seeing her here, uncaring, wrangling an unruly umbrella, laughing to no one, unstitched Foster all over again.

She stood, brushed her coat off, and paced as if she would be late for an appointment in order to catch the girl.

"Excuse me," she said, her voice even. "Do you know if the bakery on Sixth is still open this late?"

Nadine turned, brows lifting, face lit by that same warm smile Foster remembered. She blinked twice, eyes scanning Foster’s face.

"You.. you look familiar," she replied. Her face looked like she had caught a nostalgic scent. "Were you on a podcast or something?"

Foster gave a soft, amused breath. "No. I work in pathology. Not much of a media draw."

Nadine’s gaze narrowed. "Still.. I know that face. Not in a creepy way! You just have the vibe of.. someone I’ve spilled a drink on before."

"Maybe," Foster said gently. "But I do hope it wasn’t coffee."

Nadine laughed. It was a beautiful sound, the kind that made things feel easier. Foster let herself watch her laugh for a second too long before looking down at her watch. A fidget. A buffer. That nagging feeling that she should be doing something important. But she subdued it for now.

"I was actually going to get banana bread," Foster remarked, nodding toward the street. "Were you headed that way?"

"Banana bread? Oh my God.. listen, this might sound dramatic, but I’d probably marry banana bread if it was better at communicating."

Foster smiled with the corners of her mouth, hands behind her back. "I’ll take that as a yes?"

"Yeah! Lead the way, mysterious podcast woman."

They walked in step, the quiet between them filled with a calm that made Foster’s chest ache. She kept her hands folded neatly behind her, but she glanced sideways sometimes, watching Nadine grin at a stray cat, hum at a passing car's jingle, chatter about her love for crumbly crusts.. and nearly lose her umbrella.

Seeing her again like this.. it felt unfair in the most beautiful way. A clean beginning, yes, but not for both of them. Foster wished that she really had just met her on a quiet spring like this. Just a stranger with a warm smile and a love for banana bread.

And Nadine kept looking too. At Foster’s face. At her posture. At the subtle way her eyes softened at certain words. At nothing, and everything.

"Still swear I know you from somewhere," Nadine insisted as they neared the bakery. "What's your name?"

Foster hesitated.

"Elaine."

"Huh, I guess I don't."

Elaine chuckled. She opened the door and let Nadine walk through first.
------
The air was thick with sugar and butter. A faint warmth clung to the windows, fogging them slightly as the scent of banana, pecan, and cinnamon surrounded the place. The hum of the lights buzzed gently under quiet conversation and the distant rattle of a mixer from the kitchen.

Nadine leaned against the counter, squinting through the glass like it was an art exhibit.

"Oh my God," she whispered. "They have the glaze."

Elaine folded her hands behind her back again. "I see."

"No, you don’t see. This is //the// glaze," Nadine retorted, as if everyone knew about //the// glaze. "Look, right there, maple pecan glaze! I’ve been looking for this for, like, two years. I thought I hallucinated it. I've only had it once in a cake shop when I still lived in New York. And that place closed down, so I've been stuck wandering in search of it.. and it's finally here.."

Elaine smiled as she watched Nadine's excitement gradually overtake her body. "I take it you’ll want a slice."

"Two. One for now, one for if I get hit by a car later and need it for the afterlife."

Elaine paid before Nadine could pull her wallet out, sliding the cash across the counter with a practiced ease.

"Oh," Nadine said, pretending to be scandalized. "Are you trying to seduce me with baked goods?"

Elaine blinked. "Is it working?"

Nadine giggled as they took a small table by the window. Outside, the sky had gone a washed-out blue as the evening slipped in.

For a while, neither of them spoke. Nadine ate as though she were savoring her last meal. Elaine sipped from her new cup of coffee as she studied her.

"You really weren't kidding," Elaine remarked, watching her take another beholden bite.

"I never kid," Nadine replied with a tone that made it seem like she was kidding right this moment. "It's so good.. I could really write a poem about this bread. You want some?"

Elaine smiled into her cup. "No, thanks. I'd read that poem, though."

"You'd publish it," Nadine declared, pointing at her with a plastic fork. "You look like someone who reads a lot. One of those editorial kind of people."

Elaine raised an eyebrow. "You're not far off."

A comfortable pause followed. Nadine tapped her fork on the edge of her plate, having eaten both of her slices. Her voice was quieter now. "You ever get that weird feeling like you’re on the edge of remembering something? Like it's just on the tip of your tongue.."

Elaine’s heart gave a slow, stubborn beat.

"Sometimes," she said carefully.

"That’s what this is like," Nadine murmured, eyes fixed on her bread-less plate. "This whole day. This glaze. This one cat I saw. You.. I keep getting that little ache in my brain like something’s just out of reach. It’s not bad. Just.. weirdly sweet."

Elaine looked down to swirl her coffee, trying to swallow the weight in her chest. She wanted to say //you’re not wrong//. She wanted to reach across the table and embrace Nadine like she had once before. But that wasn’t the world they were in anymore.

"That happens more often than you’d think," she said instead. "The brain holds on to things, even if you don’t know what they are. Could be anything, really. Doesn't even have to be memorable by itself."

Nadine leaned back in her chair, humming thoughtfully. "That’s weirdly comforting."

The two sat in silence ruminating yet again.

"By the way.. I never asked your last name," Nadine said suddenly, peering at Elaine over the latter's cup. "Elaine..?"

Elaine hesitated, just for a breath, and then answered with a quiet grace, "Foster."

"Elaine Foster," Nadine repeated.

The name didn't mean much to her. Not yet. But she smiled like it sounded right anyway.

"Okay, Elaine Foster," Nadine said again, letting the name roll off her tongue. "You've officially become my banana bread witness. You have to show up at my funeral and tell people I died doing what I loved."

"Eating?" Elaine offered.

Nadine grinned. "Eating //well.//"

They both laughed, and for a moment the sound of it rose above the low murmur of the bakery. Outside, the light had faded into the dusky orange of the evening.

"Hey," Nadine said after a beat, having returned to poking at her plate with her fork. "This might sound weird, but.. thanks."

Elaine tilted her head slightly. "For?"

"For this," Nadine said, gesturing vaguely at the table, the bakery, and the space between them. "You know. The small talk, walking with me.. letting me ramble. You even bought my banana bread!"

"How could I not? They had the glaze."

After Nadine cackled, the two stepped outside into the cool air. The wind had reduced itself into a breeze tugging gently at their sleeves.

"I'll remember this day," Nadine announced. "Even if I forget everything else tomorrow."

Elaine couldn't help but grin. "Me too."

"It sucks, but I should head that way," Nadine said, pointing off down the street. "I’ve got a roommate who thinks I was murdered if I’m not home by nine."

"Then I’m glad to have preserved your legacy."

The pair took another moment to gaze at each other.

"I hope I see you again," Nadine uttered before looking off to the side, as if surprised by her own honesty.

"You might," Elaine replied. "Things have a way of circling back."

"Cryptic. I like it."

Nadine walked backward for a few steps, one hand raised and waving.

"Bye, Elaine Foster."

Elaine raised her hand in return.

"Goodbye, Nadine Porter."

//Fuck.//

Nadine tilted her head curiously, but turned and strolled off anyway.
------

Elaine lingered on the sidewalk long after Nadine disappeared around the corner, her name still fresh on her tongue.

//Idiot,// she thought to herself. //Rookie mistake.//

She hadn't even realized she remembered the last name until it came out of her mouth. It sat wrong in the air when she said it, like a sharp note during a slow piano piece. Nadine's look of confusion had barely lasted a second, but now it echoed louder than their entire conversation.

Elaine eventually began walking. Each step felt heavier than the last. She replayed the moment over and over: the tilt of her head, the utter confusion on her face, the deafening silence after. It wasn’t just a name; it was a fracture in the wall she had so carefully built. She shouldn't have said it. God, how could she mess this up? What was the point? She could've just said "Nadine". She didn't even have to say a name. Did Nadine even tell her her //first// name? Why di-

//"Elaine!"//

Nadine was jogging up the street toward her. When she caught up, slightly out of breath, she stopped in front of Elaine with narrowed eyes.

"Okay," she said, lightly jabbing a finger at her. "First off.. how'd you know my name?"

Elaine stared at her. "Huh?"

"Don't 'huh' me! You said 'Nadine Porter.' No one says my last name unless they’re a telemarketer or something."

Elaine gave her the weakest shrug in the world. "Lucky guess?"

She snickered at that. "Try again."

Elaine hesitated, eyes scanning Nadine’s face. She looked curious, more amused than suspicious, but she still waited for an answer.

"You believe in déjà vu, right?"

"Oh, don’t do that," Nadine groaned while grinning. Elaine smiled despite herself.

"I don’t know," she said as though she were admitting something. "Sometimes I know things I shouldn’t. But not in a creepy way. More like.. the world repeats itself sometimes. And sometimes people come back around."

Nadine tilted her head, thoughtful. "Huh."

A long pause stretched between them while the breeze stirred.

"Okay," Nadine said suddenly. "Thursday."

"What about Thursday?"

"Meet me back at the bakery. Five o' clock. I wanna see if you figure out my middle name next."

Elaine laughed. "And if I do?"

"Then I’m buying the banana bread."

Elaine raised an eyebrow. "Even if they don’t have the glaze?"

Nadine looked distraught. "Don’t say things like that."

They stood there for another moment, neither quite ready to move.

Then Nadine gave her a small, shy smile. "I’ll see you Thursday, Elaine Foster."

Elaine watched her go again.

"Thursday," she echoed under her breath.

She walked off once more, realizing that she finally had something to look forward to.

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Banana Bread Bunch

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