Who You Say I Am (A Jai Courtney Fanfic)

Chapter 36-Jai

Jai

I wake early and get ready for the day. I'm actually pretty excited about this. I knock on Megan's door with no response. I didn't hear the shower running so I'm hoping she's not still asleep. I figure I'll check the dining hall first. I get down there and it's empty but I hear some ladies laughing. I walk to the kitchen entrance to peek in and she's there. I see her cutting up vegetables and dumping them into a pot.
"Brother Jai," Sister Ini calls out to me. "Are you volunteering?"
Megan meets my eyes smiling. "Sure," I agree.
The older Jamaican lady comes over and has me put on an apron. I join Megan and she shows me how to cut up the vegetables.
"Thank you," she whispers stepping away.
I watch her walking and she looks back to me smiling as she stirs the pot in front of her. She joins Sister Ini and it looks like they're making that ackee and salt fish, I think. I see them cutting up ackee and figure it must be for that.
There's some other women here that I've met.  I can't remember their names but I know I've been introduced.  One is making some kind of fritters and the other is peeking in the oven and stirring some other dishes.  I focus on my task and finish the vegetables. 
"Where do you want these?" I ask Megan. 
"In the tall stockpot I was stirring," she says.  She wipes her hands and joins me dumping them in.  She stirs it for me and covers the pot.
"What's this one called?" I ask. 
"Callaloo.  I made it last Saturday.  It's good," she tells me. 
I smile at her. 
"Do you want to help me with this one?" she asks. 
I nod and help her cut up different vegetables. 
"Sister Ini already prepared the fish," she tells me.  "Now that I know how to make this, I might make some for my parents—but without the scotch bonnet.  My dad can't handle the heat."
"What's that?" I ask. 
"That pepper right there.  I'll wear a glove when I cut it up," she says pointing to a funny looking little orange capsicum. 
We cut up some capsicum, onions, tomatoes, scallions, and then the little orange one.  We only use a small amount of it.  The other is put in the stockpot with the other vegetables dish—the green one. 
"Do you want to sauté these or do you want me to do it?" she asks. 
"How about I watch you?" I suggest. 
She laughs, "Alright."  I watch her put a little oil in a saucepan.  I dump the vegetables into the pan and she stirs it.  "Do you cook much for yourself?"
"Sometimes," I shrug.  "I can't cook too many things.  I often eat out."
"I rarely eat out in my hometown," she whispers. 
"Why's that?" I ask. 
"The food is terrible," she says. 
"Yeah, take away is so bad for you," I admit.  "I try to stick with the healthier places."
"No, I mean the food is terrible," she says. 
I motion for her to continue. 
"I'm talking about forgetting something in the order, poorly made, getting the wrong thing, bad service, and food poisoning," she says. 
"Yeah," I laugh.  "That does sound terrible."  I pause.  "It's really that bad?"
"Yeah.  I generally don't care for eating out—with the exception of a few places," she says. 
"So you cook a lot?" I question. 
"My mom always has.  We generally eat at home.  On the rare occasion we go to nicer restaurants.  There are several we won't go to but there are some worth traveling to," she explains. 
"So what about you?  You were on your own for a while, right?" I ask hesitantly. 
"Yeah, less than a month," she says.  "I didn't move much over there.  It was a month by month rental downtown.  I only brought the minimal amount of things—a new bed, some clothes... the wedding gifts.  They're still in boxes there.  I wonder if my mom has done anything with them."
I sigh realizing how close she came to marrying that bloke.  I'm so glad things went down the way they did.  I feel a tug on my arm.  The little older lady is trying to get my attention.  She says something unintelligible. 
"She wants you to take the bread out of the oven," Megan tells me.  The lady nods. 
"Sure," I say. 
"Use the hot pads and try not to burn yourself," Megan warns. 
I laugh.  I've made frozen food and grilled stuff before—nothing like this feast these ladies prepare. 
I follow the lady over and she points to the big oven.  I open it to see several trays of bread in there.  I grab the hot pads and pull out one.  I see her flagging me to set in on a clean metal countertop.  I place it there and grab the rest.  This bread smells incredible and I'm looking forward to this. 
"I smell that hard dough bread," Pastor Ben says at the doorway rubbing his hands together. 
"Do you do that every time your wife cooks for you?" Megan asks teasingly. 
"Every time she bakes something fresh in the oven," he grins. 
"Oh?  What does she bake for you?" she asks. 
"Let's see... she has this southern biscuit recipe her mama passed down to her.  Her pot pies are outstanding.  She makes this fried chicken in the oven that always has my mouth watering.  Oh, and her cornbread is the best I've ever had," he says. 
"It sounds like my family has similar foods they cook," she smiles pouring the contents of her saucepan into a serving tray. 
"Yeah, but you've got two completely different styles compared to my household.  Our recipes are pretty close, yours are like day and night, am I right?" he says and I'm curious to hear this. 
I'm directed to the pot of the green vegetable dish.  I stir it and the older lady has me dump it into the prepared dish. 
"Well... my bubbe has the best blintz and potato latkas recipes.  Those were my favorites," she says.  I'm not familiar with the terms. 
"Is that grandma?" he asks. 
"Yeah, it's Yiddish.  Blintzes are like a crepe filled with a creamy cheese but it's not cream cheese.  They're very particular about the type.  Potato latkas are like a fried potato pancake," she explains and I'm thinking I definitely want to eat at her family's house sometime. 
I carefully spoon out my mixture into the dish. 
"Oh, man.  Those sound good," he says.  "I've got to invite your family over for a potluck sometime." 
"I'm sure they'd love that," she smiles. 
"Yeah.  I better get some help for this.  Sister Abigay is already over there slicing the bread," Pastor Ben says. 
I look back over to the bread.  She's up on a step stool.  She's a cute little lady.  I help the guys entering the kitchen to carry the food out.  Megan has an armful of serving utensils she places into each dish.  We remove our aprons and join in the room.  We hold hands in prayer and I do think this atmosphere is really nice.  I have Megan's hand in mine and the sweet little old lady, Sister Abigay.  I'm assuming that's probably Jamaican for Abigale. 
Pastor Ben prays over the food and I follow their customs before we join the line.  I'm actually pretty excited about this.  This is definitely the best looking meal I've ever helped with.  I try some of everything—larger portions of the ones where I assisted.  There always seems to be enough for everyone to get seconds it seems.  I take the seat beside Megan.  She's sitting with Gale and Floyd. 
I overhear her whisper, "Floyd wanted to do something together—just the two of us."
"That sounds nice," Megan responds quietly. 
"You don't mind me bailing on you, do you?" Gale asks her softly. 
Megan laughs softly and glances at me.  "I think I'll manage," she replies smiling. 
I grin, too.  Gale seems to generally be the one who asks her to do something just about every day.  Now there probably won't be any questions. 
"Jai and I were going to do something, too," she confides. 
I can feel Gale actually peering around her to look at me.  I keep my eyes on my plate.  I'm enjoying the interesting dishes I helped to make.  I might make this green one at home in the future.  This is really good. 
"Are you serious?" she whispers and I can hear the smile in her voice.  Yeah, she's on my side.  I glance over to Megan to see her nod and shrug it off. 
I focus on my plate once more, enjoying this amazing home cooked meal.  Maybe I could do something like this more often.  It wasn't too hard.