Sister Mother

Chapter 26

Leo

I felt bad about lying to my mother about my truck and my plan to leave early, so I showed up a half hour before I said I would. Henry wouldn't be home until six. As a kid, six o'clock filled me with dread, when he'd walk through the door, kick off his shoes, and yell, "Louisa, bring me a beer!" I'd hide in my room for as long as possible.

Five-thirty was a good time. That's when Ma would be making dinner.

"Leo!" cried Ma after pulling the door open. She wore sweatpants and a red apron. Her light brown hair was pulled back into a messy bun and she had flour on her cheeks. "Oh good, you're early!"

"Am I? I thought you asked me to come early and help with dinner."

"Get in here," She demanded as she stepped aside. "I can't keep up with you. You make excuses not to come and then you're early."

"I felt bad. I got you something to make up for it."

"Seeing you here is enough."

"Good thing I kept the receipt then." I walked deeper into the house.

"Give it," Ma ordered as she pat my arm.

I handed her the cookbook that I'd picked up an hour earlier. It was the newest one by Giuliano Hazan, one of our favorite chefs. Ma had been following his recipes since she was pregnant with me. She always told me that I like his recipes so much because most of what she ate during her pregnancy was Chef Hazan's food.

She beamed. "Oh Leo--"

"There are two recipes in there inspired by his trip to Tagliatelle. I've been dying to try them out and thought you might like--"

Ma shrieked and pushed the cookbook back into my arms. She grabbed my hand and dragged me into the kitchen. She gestured to the running oven, and then the counter island which was covered in flour and traces of her famous tomato sauce. Also on the counter, was an identical copy of the blue cookbook I'd just bought. It was open to a lasagna recipe.

I chuckled. "Okay well, I guess it's a good thing that I kept the receipt."

"I have a solution." Ma walked over to the counter, picked up her old cookbook and before I could say a single word, she opened the trash can and dropped the book in. "There, now I have a new copy. Grazie, Leonardo, that was very sweet of you."

I grinned. "You're a nut."

"And you can check the fridge since you're early. I made extra dough."

I opened the fridge and pulled out a huge bowl of raw pasta dough. Addie texted me and I get to help Ma make pasta. This day might not be so bad after all. "We won't eat all of this." I washed my hands in the sink.

"You'll take it home when you leave. I don't like that you can't cook in that closet kitchen of yours."

"The apartment works for us. We've all got decent commutes and the rent's not bad."

"It's not a home if it doesn't have a good kitchen."

"I still eat."

"Box food." Ma shook her head. "You may as well eat off the sidewalks."

I don't think Ma had ever ordered take-out. It's always home-cooked meals for her. As great as it was to slip out of Henry's grasp when I left for college, I experienced a major culture shock.

Addie has a nice kitchen. When I was at her house, I was tempted to walk around her kitchen, snoop through the cabinets and cook something for her. I'd thought a lot about making her something and sending it, but I couldn't do much in my kitchen closet.