Truce

Five // Nothing Good Ever Comes Out of a Family Dinner

Five // Nothing Good Ever Comes Out of a Family Dinner

Jacob

To say I was dreading the family dinner was the biggest understatement since the start of time. Yes, it was bigger than those who said Hitler wouldn't hurt anyone. I wasn't scared of my father and I had no reason to be, but based on the facts that we were talking about our country and it only involves the males it was particularly concerning. I felt if it were anything important that I shouldn't have to worry, considering I was the youngest boy of the family with two older brothers to take the hit.

That reminded me; I'd be seeing the eldest of the family, Royce, for the first time in a little while. He'd decided to live on campus at university and hardly came home to visit. That put me in a slightly better mood. I got along with all of my siblings well but Royce was the one who I spent most of my formative years growing up with.

By the time Ada and I got home from school our mother's car was in the driveway, meaning she'd already be at work in the kitchen. The place which I would remain in for the next couple of hours if necessary.

The clear sky was beginning to cover with thick rain clouds, raising hope that there would be a storm tonight. I found storms to be comforting in times of distress. My sister, like the majority of the population, felt anxious around storms. One look at the sky brought worry to her face as she sunk further into the seat.

I stepped outside and waited for her to gather her bags, before she rushed to get to under the porch shelter. Not that it was raining. Yet.

"Are you going to help Mutti and I cook?" I asked her, trying to take her mind off the storm.

"I don't want to mess anything up," she mumbled, pushing through the unlocked door. I set my backpack on a hook inside the entrance and made my way to the kitchen, Ada in tow.

I didn't say anything, not after the last time she was in the kitchen. She had managed to not only make a mess, but to burn the chocolate chip biscuits she was making and her hand from grabbing the tray out of the oven without oven mittens. She was smart, but when it came to cooking she was clueless.

The radio filtered through the house, echoing in the kitchen and into the entrance. It brought a smile to my lips that Mum was listening to the oldies station, filled with songs from the time when she was a teenager.

As I had predicted she'd already began cooking, varieties of food spread from one end of the shiny island to the other. Mum had her back to us, stirring something in the fry pan. Her graying blonde hair was pulled back tightly, not a strand loose, wearing a dress under her simple black apron that I wasn't allowed to touch. She'd had it since she learnt to cook from her mother, so I had my own hanging beside the fridge.

She turned when she heard us walk in, a smile lighting up her entire face like it did whenever she saw one of her children. "Hallo my darling kinder." Her German accent was thick and difficult to understand to anyone not used to it. I still found it easier to understand when she spoke in German but she rathered to speak in English with us. As if we would somehow forget how to speak it if we stopped. "How was school?"

"It was great, Mutti," I smiled, kissing her on both cheeks and then giving her a hug, letting her squeeze the life out of me.

"Very good," Ada agreed, following suit once I got out of the way.

"Good. Now, I do not like to be difficult but Jacob, you need to help me prepare. Your father will be here in two hours and I can not get this done on my own."

I was already washing my hands, followed by the routine of putting my apron on. I let out a light chuckle. "You told me that on Tuesday. And last night. And again this morning."