Mama Tiger

Chapter 7.

Chapter 7.

"Are we having a party or something?" Jude asked, coming into the kitchen.

Stef looked around the room and laughed. "Not a party. A cook-a-thon" The counters were covered in casserole ingredients, and a stock pot of tomato sauce and meatballs simmered on the stove. It was mid-morning on Sunday, the perfect day to fill the kitchen with the smell of cooking food, and a welcome distraction from her meeting with the surgeon the next day.

"Can I help?" Jude asked.

"Of course you can help, buddy," Lena nodded. She passed him a cutting board and a knife. "Why don't you start by slicing up this eggplant?"

"Okay," he nodded. He picked up the knife and began carefully slicing the vegetable.

"Careful, baby doll," Lena warned. "Make them a little bit thinner, okay?"

"Okay, Mama."

Stef smiled, watching her wife guide their youngest son. The strains of Callie's guitar floated in from the back porch, where the teenager sat, strumming. She'd been there since breakfast, playing the same sad, lonely tune; Stef knew it was the voice of her heart, the things her daughter couldn't say.

Lena put her arm around Jude, giving him a squeeze, and he looked up at her, his eyes bright. They had gotten so close, and it was sweet to see them together. Jude was Lena's baby, in the same way that Callie was Stef's. They had a special bond.

Suddenly lonely, Stef glanced out the screen door at her daughter. Wiping her hands on a dishtowel, she spooned a meatball onto a small dish, and took a fork from the utensil drawer, then went out to the porch. "Hey, Slug-a-Bug."

Callie stopped playing and looked up. "Oh. Hey, mom."

"Do you want to come in and help us cook?" she asked. "We could use and extra pair of hands."

Callie gave her an unsure look. "Is it okay if I don't? I mean, I don't mind helping, but I just-"

"You don't have to if you don't want to," said Stef, stopping her. "I just thought I'd offer. Maybe you can be our guinea pig?" She passed her daughter the dish with the meatball on it. "Try this, see what you think."

Callie speared the meatball with the fork and bit into it, holding her hand under it to catch any drips. "It's good," she nodded.

Stef took the empty plate from her when she was finished. "'Good' is all I get?" she asked, pretending to be insulted. "I worked hard on these."

Callie rolled her eyes, the corners of her lips turning up in a smile. "Okay. It was the best meatball I've ever had."

"That's more like it," Stef laughed, smoothing her hair. She turned and went back into the kitchen.

"When is Grandma coming?" Jude asked, once Stef took her place at the counter again.

"I don't know," she replied. "It depends on when my surgery is scheduled."

Jude nodded, just as Jesus came into the kitchen and snitched some shredded cheese from a bowl. Lena playfully slapped his hand.

"What?" he asked. "I'm hungry."

"You just ate breakfast an hour and a half ago," she told him. "If you're hungry, take a piece of fruit from the bowl."

Jesus delivered a dramatic sigh, then chose an orange from the ceramic bowl on the table. It was then that Stef became aware that their melancholic background music had ceased. She glanced over at the door to see that Callie still sitting in the same spot on the step, looking in.