Just What I Needed

July 5 (Late Afternoon)

"Well hello, I'm Cora! I've heard so much about you!" a cheerful woman, who I guessed to be in her mid-fifties, stepped up onto the front porch. She had flaming red hair and wore thick, purple plastic-framed glasses. She was not at all how I imagined Nate's aunt to look.

"Good things, I hope," I replied.

"Oh, of course, of course my dear," Cora reached out and gave me a hearty hug.

She was followed by tall, stocky man of roughly the same age. His black hair was fading to grey along the sides. Even as an older man, he stood with a posture that commanded attention and a whole head taller than my dad. I wondered if this was the side of the family that Nate got his height from.

"Jordan, Mr. MacKenzie – this is my uncle Stan," Nate gave his uncle a handshake that morphed into a hug.

Stan gave my dad a strong handshake and he reached out to shake my hand in a firm, but likely gentler squeeze than he gave my father. "Please to meet you folks."

"Come on in," My dad ushered everyone into the house. It was clear he'd spent the day grocery shopping and making a home cooked meal, probably his first ever. I knew there was nothing left of mom's frozen dinners – I had burned the last one. And I certainly couldn't remember the last meal he'd cooked even before the accident.

"When did you learn to cook?" I had asked when Nate and I walked into the kitchen earlier this afternoon.

"I found one of your mom's written recipes," my dad swiped his hand through his hair nervously. It was clear he wanted to make a good impression.

I wondered if he was worried that Nate had told his folks what poor hosts we had been for the first part of the summer.

"I'm sure it will taste great then," I patted his back, trying to reassure him.

"What a lovely home you have," Cora commented as she entered through the front door.

"Thank you, let me give you a brief tour. This here is our living room," my dad motioned with his arm as we stood there staring at the furniture. We never used this room anymore. It felt like we were standing in the living room of someone else's house. And really, what was he going to tell them, that we now spend the majority of our time holed up in our respective rooms, not talking to each other?

"Let me show you the room where I've been staying," Nate piped up to fill the awkward silence, and directed his aunt and uncle toward the hallway. He followed behind them and listened as my dad explained, with tears in his eyes, that Nate had been staying in Nicky's room.

"It's been very hard with half of our family gone," my dad said, wrapping his arm around my shoulder as we walked down the hall. "It's been hard on both of us."

Cora also seemed to have tears in her eyes as she scanned Nicholas's room.

"He's been very respectful," my dad said looking to Nate. "He's really stepped up, especially being thrown into a pretty delicate situation."

Cora reached a hand up and gently patted the side of Nate's face, "That's our boy."

Nate blushed. It was the first time I'd seen him look uncomfortable with a compliment.

"Please, sit," my dad brought the meal he had prepared to the table, after leading us back into the main part of the house.

Nate and I sat next to each other, across the table from Cora while the two older men seated themselves at the ends of the table.

"I just want to apologize for the trouble of you folks having to come all this way," my dad started.

"Oh nonsense!" Cora said, placing her napkin on her lap. "It wasn't your fault that the accident happened. That's why they call them accidents after all. We're just grateful that our Nate only has minor injuries. It's no inconvenience at all."