Everything in Between

Chapter 11

November 2018

I can forgive Zach for never having eaten sweet potato casserole with homemade marshmallows – because no one is perfect, and, in his favour, he grew up hardly sharing a home cooked family meal over the holidays. If he thought a basic mashed potato with gravy was good, imagine his reaction tonight when he finally tastes mom's casserole recipe.

Zach wouldn't go as far as to agree with me that it's going to be the best thing he's ever eaten. He managed to work in the phrases, I'm more of a savoury kind of guy, and sweet potatoes aren't even a real potato, as he worked alongside my mom prepping the casserole. Clearly, he's having his doubts and knows I'm right. His palate will be surprisingly pleased.

We spent our afternoon in mom's kitchen, preparing Thanksgiving dinner. I've been stuck on clean-up duty – which I hate - while mom takes on the role of head chef and delegates Zach as her sous chef. I used to be her cooking assistant for the holidays until Zach spent the entire summer with her and took a keen interest in learning how to cook. My mom took a keen interest in teaching Zach everything she knew about cooking and even shared our family recipes with him. I'm just glad mom found someone to share her passion with because I'm a disaster in the kitchen. I've burned more than humanly possible, and I can't quite figure out portions and measurements, turning every recipe I make inedible. I've come to accept I'm better at eating food than cooking it.

"You played well last game," mom says, smiling at Zach. She pulls the turkey from the refrigerator and places it down on the countertop.

"Thanks, Mama Murphy," he says as he chops up sweet potatoes. "Did you enjoy that goal I scored from the blue line?"

"I did. You have a hard slap shot," she says and then adds. "Is that what they call it – a slap shot?"

Mom hands me a dirty mixing bowl she used to whip marshmallow topping.

"Yes," he laughs and then nudges her with his shoulder. "Thank you for coming to my games when you can."

Mom hugs Zach. "I love coming to your games."

"It also gives you an excuse to come and visit your only daughter," I say and pull open the dishwasher, placing the dirty bowl and whisk inside.

"Yes, and I get to spend time with my girl."

He laughs and playfully shoots a grin in my direction. "You mean clean up her bedroom, make her a home cooked meal, do her laundry, and then go home?"

"We both know she wouldn't know what to do without me."

"Or me," Zach says, grinning. He tosses a marshmallow at my head, and it bounces off my forehead.

"Ha!" I smack my thigh. "You two are so funny together – maybe you guys should start a comedy routine."

Zach ruffles my hair, and mom gives us an adoring look.

"But seriously, though," he says, returning his attention to mom. "It's nice to have a loyal fan. You show up to my hockey games more than my parents."

"When was the last time they watched you play?" she asks, frowning.

"Um, once last year." He shrugs. "They are busy. They work all the time. I'm used to it. The story of my entire life."

Zach places the chopped sweet potatoes into a large pot full of boiling water and hands me his dirty knife and cutting board.

"Annie mentioned you have a new girlfriend," mom says as she shoves her homemade stuffing inside the turkey. "How's that going?" she asks casually. "What's her name again, Katie?"