light | paul lahote

1.0

As Bethany swept through the kitchen that morning, the Inola household felt alive in a way it hadn't for a long time. Her hip bumped the fridge door closed as she grabbed some eggs, flying her way towards the cabinet just a mere second later.

She was a whirlwind. After taking care of her mom for just a few days, she was back into her old ways. There was one primary way Bethany had always shown love—and that was food. Back in the day, Bethany was famous at La Push Tribal School for her bake sale contributions. She could remember being in the kitchen ever since she was little. Her mother would guide her small hands towards the mixing bowl, helping her crack eggs one by one.

Bethany stopped and stared at her pan. She took the egg in her hand and cracked it with one hand against the lip of the pan, smoothly sliding it onto the sizzling surface. Just like mom taught her.

Terry Inola herself was bounding downstairs; that woman couldn't be quiet if her life depended on it. When Bethany was little, she'd pout whenever her mom hollered and cheered at her soccer games. Now, every sound Terry made was a beautiful reminder to her daughter that she was still alive and living each moment to the fullest.

"Whatcha cookin', good-lookin?" Her mom grinned toothily at Bethany, peering over her shoulder at the pan of scrambled eggs.

Bethany laughed heartily. "Some breakfast, hopefully. Where'd you move the spices at?"

Terry swiveled throughout the kitchen, brandishing open a cabinet full of containers. "Here! I rearranged a couple months ago. The energy in here was feeling stale."

She hummed in response. Her daughter was long used to her little quirks. Bethany's mom was a free spirit, moving things around on a whim and traveling at will. It was one of the reasons Bethany hadn't been home in so long. Terry always loved to visit her in the city, taking advantages of the sights and vigor of Seattle.

A pop resounded through the kitchen as the toast went off, and Bethany was quick to assemble everything onto a plate and slid it in front of her mom.

"I've got to go around searching for a job today. Do you have any plans?" Bethany asked, leaning her hip against the counter.

Terry nodded, "Think I might go visit Allison."

"That'll be good!" She averted her eyes down to the small crack in the corner of one of the floor tiles. "How's Sam and Emily doing?"

Her mother shot her a sharp look, knowing what Bethany was skirting around asking. "You should stop by. Most of the younger ones on the res flit in and out of that house. It might be good for you to see everyone."

Bethany sighed heavily. "I don't—I don't know. Maybe. I still have to go look for a job."

Terry raised her eyebrows expectantly, "Alright. That's fine. I'm not interfering." She stood up abruptly, taking a moment to dramatically readjust her pink, thread-bare robe that laid over a pair of bright yellow pajama pants.

Bethany giggled a little, and her chest panged at how much she had missed her mom's antics.

Terry locked her arms around her daughter in an embrace, taking in a heavy sigh. "I've missed you, sweetheart."

"I missed you too, Mom."