Jonathon.”
“Oh I know, just consider me your sous chef.”
“What's that?” she asks, opening the ranger's array of seasonings and spices.
“Your assistant.” She smiles and begins to lay down her plan of how we are going to add a little of this with a little of that and come out with some sort of stew. I help her open some cans and gather some fresh water. She takes a third of a box, mixes it in, and begins to stir.
She has no idea what she is doing.
“Okay, now sous-chef Jon. Let this cook for 15 minutes. Now, I also want to prepare those instant mashed potatoes.” She turns to her sister. “This should all be easy for her to eat.”
She rips open the pouch and I begin to heat some more water over the stove. While she is distracted with the potatoes I grab a spoon from the drawer and taste the stew. I may need to add a little, a lot, of seasoning when she is not looking. However, when I bring it to my mouth, it tastes alright. Maybe she does have an idea.
“Pretty good!” I say with a grin and a thumbs-up.
“Of course,” she turns with a smile.
The two of us finish preparing the meal while Jo sets the table and checks on Caitlyn. We serve the meal onto the dishes on the table and we take turns helping Caitlyn eat. When she feels up to it, we prop her up in her bed and sit with her as she slurps away at the stew. She manages to eat half of it. The plates at the table get completely cleaned.
“Good work, Sara” replies Jo rising to her feet. She sets her plates down and walks to the corner. “I'm sure you two won't mind doing cleanup, too. I’m headed out.”
“Out? Who’s the guy?” I ask. Sara and I begin to collect the plates and put them in a wash bucket already heating on the stove.
She snickers as she grabs the rifle from the corner. “Hopefully, ‘he’ is an ‘it’, and ‘it’ is going to die.”
“Isn't it a little dark to try to be a great hunter Jo-Jo?”
“It’s as good a time as any.”
Our uncle always used to talk about hunting at the very crack of dawn. There must have been a reason for that. “Can't we wait until tomorrow? I will come.”
“Just relax, we’ve an hour left.”
“Why are you pushing this now?” I ask moving closer.
“Because,” she begins, lowering her voice, “I'm tired of you doing pretty much everything around here.“
“You know I don't see it like that,” I argue. The tension rises.
“Well I do.”
“We haven't even fired one of those guns yet. What if someone hears it? Think.”
“I am thinking. It will be fine. Stay with them.”
“Jocelyn, you are acting like a child.” It slips before I can hold it in.
“No. I've never been a child because I have always had to put up with you.” She sighs. We are both angry. This is how most conversations went before the plague came along. She speaks loud so the twins can now hear. “Jon, I’m going, I’ll see you soon.”
“Girls, I’m going for a walk. I’ll see you in an hour.” she says, slinging the gun over her shoulder and heading to the door. I don't think she would ever admit it, but I think she was jealous of Sara and me preparing dinner.
It was my fault, too. I'm still just trying to make up these past few years.
“Oh I know, just consider me your sous chef.”
“What's that?” she asks, opening the ranger's array of seasonings and spices.
“Your assistant.” She smiles and begins to lay down her plan of how we are going to add a little of this with a little of that and come out with some sort of stew. I help her open some cans and gather some fresh water. She takes a third of a box, mixes it in, and begins to stir.
She has no idea what she is doing.
“Okay, now sous-chef Jon. Let this cook for 15 minutes. Now, I also want to prepare those instant mashed potatoes.” She turns to her sister. “This should all be easy for her to eat.”
She rips open the pouch and I begin to heat some more water over the stove. While she is distracted with the potatoes I grab a spoon from the drawer and taste the stew. I may need to add a little, a lot, of seasoning when she is not looking. However, when I bring it to my mouth, it tastes alright. Maybe she does have an idea.
“Pretty good!” I say with a grin and a thumbs-up.
“Of course,” she turns with a smile.
The two of us finish preparing the meal while Jo sets the table and checks on Caitlyn. We serve the meal onto the dishes on the table and we take turns helping Caitlyn eat. When she feels up to it, we prop her up in her bed and sit with her as she slurps away at the stew. She manages to eat half of it. The plates at the table get completely cleaned.
“Good work, Sara” replies Jo rising to her feet. She sets her plates down and walks to the corner. “I'm sure you two won't mind doing cleanup, too. I’m headed out.”
“Out? Who’s the guy?” I ask. Sara and I begin to collect the plates and put them in a wash bucket already heating on the stove.
She snickers as she grabs the rifle from the corner. “Hopefully, ‘he’ is an ‘it’, and ‘it’ is going to die.”
“Isn't it a little dark to try to be a great hunter Jo-Jo?”
“It’s as good a time as any.”
Our uncle always used to talk about hunting at the very crack of dawn. There must have been a reason for that. “Can't we wait until tomorrow? I will come.”
“Just relax, we’ve an hour left.”
“Why are you pushing this now?” I ask moving closer.
“Because,” she begins, lowering her voice, “I'm tired of you doing pretty much everything around here.“
“You know I don't see it like that,” I argue. The tension rises.
“Well I do.”
“We haven't even fired one of those guns yet. What if someone hears it? Think.”
“I am thinking. It will be fine. Stay with them.”
“Jocelyn, you are acting like a child.” It slips before I can hold it in.
“No. I've never been a child because I have always had to put up with you.” She sighs. We are both angry. This is how most conversations went before the plague came along. She speaks loud so the twins can now hear. “Jon, I’m going, I’ll see you soon.”
“Girls, I’m going for a walk. I’ll see you in an hour.” she says, slinging the gun over her shoulder and heading to the door. I don't think she would ever admit it, but I think she was jealous of Sara and me preparing dinner.
It was my fault, too. I'm still just trying to make up these past few years.
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