Philinda Forever - One Shots

爱 - Part 2/?

Once again, I'm too lazy to paragraph indent all this! I hope you enjoy the next piece of this fic!!!!! 

Merry Christmas!

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"Okay, but where did you learn that?" May whispered, struggling to eyeball the right amount of meat to put in the pocket of dough laying on her hand.

"Your mom." Phil answered, "She showed me when you brought me home for Christmas in '89." Phil told Melinda, crimping the dumpling.

"She allowed you in kitchen?" May was mildly surprised.

"It was Christmas morning, and you were still upstairs sleeping." Phil remembered, a soft look washing over his features, "I was waiting to help where I could, but then your mom gave me those cookies. Remember the little red sugar cookies? They were the same kind my mom used to make... it was the first Christmas without my mom and I cried. So your mom pulled me into the kitchen and said, 'Phillip, I know it has almost been a year, but do not be afraid of moving slowly. Be afraid of standing still. You will grow. So come on and help me with these dumplings'." Phil set down the newly formed dumpling and reached for another circle of dough.

"That was the year right after your mom passed?" May waited for affirmation, and Phil nodded. May echoed, "'Do not be afraid of moving slowly. Be afraid of standing still.' That's her favorite proverb."

"Well, she knew plenty of them. That entire week she was spouting out her wisdom." Phil laughed, and glanced down at May's hands. "Mel, you don't have enough flour on your fingers. That's why the dough keeps sticking."

"Cooking is not my strong suit." she agreed.

The chef interrupted them and spoke loudly, "Alright, now I will teach you how to fry them. If you prefer to steam the dumplings, just wait and I will demonstrate that next." The chef announced, and the other couples in the room obediently finished whatever they were working on.

"How many of you are married?" One of the assistant cooks asked. May elbowed Phil and shrugged. They raised their hands alongside several others. "Husbands, would you consider your wife the perfect wife?"

All the men nodded.

"Good! Then I'll remind you that the perfect wife here in China cooks, cleans, takes care of the children, is funny, smart and beautiful, can sew and garden. Is she still perfect?" The cook laughed, trying to bring some humor to the atmosphere.

Several men whistled their agreement. Phil kissed the side of Melinda's forehead, "Every day of my life." He whispered. Melinda folded her arms with a small smile. Her mother had always thought her too modern, Lian was always leaning on the older traditions. Melinda hardly stood up to the high standards, but Phil didn't care.

The chef began, turning on the small stove and prepping her wok. "Ladies, you need to show your husbands how to do this." She paused, "Frying your dumplings will require a medium heat wok, oil, and a third cup of water. Place your dumplings in the wok and pour in the water. Cover the wok to steam them before we fry them. This will take about five to six minutes..."

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"Whatever food you two brought back, I want some. It smells amazing," Daisy barged through the hotel room door, several shopping bags on her arms.

"We made dumplings. You can have the rest for supper if you'd like." Phil offered, holding out the plastic covered container the restaurant had let them keep. Daisy swung her bags to the floor beside her suitcase and thanked Phil.