On the Back Burner by Diane Muldrow

she read over the menu the girls had written out. “Freddie will also make the meatballs. I’ll do the lamb stew—that looks the most complicated—and the fried chicken,” she continued. “Peichi, you’re on the corn chowder, the chicken parmigiana, and the chicken croquettes. And please show Omar how to make the bread. We’ll tackle the sides and desserts as soon as the main courses are under control.”
    “Peichi, think fast!” Omar yelled, tossing her a bag of frozen corn for the chowder.
    “Omarrrrrrr!” she shrieked. Everyone laughed.
    Upstairs, both Amanda and Molly had their ears to the intercom, listening to the laughter. “It’s no fair! They’re having so much fun,” Amanda whispered.
    “I know,” Molly agreed miserably.
    Amanda walked over to her dresser with a determined look on her face. “I’m going down there,” she announced. “I’ll wash my hands and I won’t cough on the food.” She grabbed a hairbrush from the dresser and began brushing.
    “Do you really want Justin to see you when you’re sick?” Molly reminded her as came back into the room.
    “I can fix that,” Amanda assured her. “All it will take is some hair gel, lip gloss, and Mom’s concealer.”
    When Amanda was finished putting herself together, she dressed in jeans and a pale pink sweater. But when she got to the top of the stairs, her luck ran out.
    “Hold it right there, young lady,” Mom’s voice rang out. “Back to bed, please.”
    “Mommmm,” moaned Amanda. “I feel fine and I want to help!” The effort of speaking brought on another fit of coughing. Amanda clapped both hands over her mouth as her mother steered her back to the twins’ room.
    Molly couldn’t stand it. “How’s it going?” she called down on the intercom as Amanda, sulking, came back into the bedroom and put her pj’s back on. Amanda was secretly glad to get back in bed. She felt worse than she’d let on.
    Matthew wandered into the kitchen just then. “Are you making cookies?” he asked.
    “No Moores in the kitchen,” Carmen announced, gently turning him away. “You’ve all been exposed to the flu and we need to keep this food away from germs. Mr. Kramer does not need to be looking after seven kids with the flu while his wife is away!”
    Molly’s voice came over the intercom again. “How is it going down there?” she repeated.
    “Just fine, Molly,” Carmen shouted. “Stay where you are.
    “Hi, Molly!” Peichi shouted so Molly could hear her.
    “Hi, Peichi! Hi, everyone!”
    Mrs. Moore’s voice was suddenly heard in the background. “You, too. Back to bed.”
    “They really feel bad about not helping,” Peichi said to Carmen.
    “I can tell,” Carmen said with a laugh. “The best thing they can do is rest and get better for your next job!”

    By two o’clock, the corn chowder was simmering on the stove. A loaf of homemade five-grain bread, a French baguette, and a loaf of honey bread were all baking in the Moores’ large oven along with the lasagna. The macaroni was finished and the sound of a mixer was whirring as Freddie whipped up his special brownie dough. The boys sat at the kitchen table, tearing up lettuce leaves and tossing them into a big steel bowl.
    “Will we be ready with everything by six?” Peichi asked Carmen. Peichi had finished the chicken parmigiana and was starting the chicken croquettes.

    “I think so,” Carmen said. “Unless something unexpected comes up.”
    The phone rang and Peichi answered it. “Moore residence.”
    A scratchy voice croaked on the other end. “It’s Shawn. How’s it going?”
    “Pretty good! I think we’re gonna make it. How are you feeling?”
    “Lousy!” Shawn replied. “But a lot better than I felt on Tuesday.”
    “Well, go back to bed and get better already!” Peichi teased. “I miss you guys so much! I can’t wait til you’re all back at school!”
    By five o’clock all the food was packed in four large cardboard boxes. “I