Catharsis from the Kitchen
After his mother's death, Ben Skywalker noticed something changed in the house. Meals never appeared as regularly on their table any more. At first, he had been far too grief-stricken to notice, but gradually he came to the realization that with his mother gone, food was no longer a priority in the Skywalker household. Force knows his Mom had been no great cook. But at some point, she must have noticed that the boys frankly couldn't be bothered to take care of themselves and she would have to take charge of this aspect of her family life if only to ensure that they were properly nourished! It worried Ben that his father no longer seemed to eat. Even if they ordered take-out, he would abstractly push his food around his plate and then leave in silence.
He went to the small cabinet where his father had lovingly stored all the material possessions his mother had left behind. Opening it, he scrabbled around in it for a bit before finding what he sought. He took his mother's datapad to the table and trawled through a whole bunch of folders and menus before finally noticing the one item he was looking for. It was a folder titled "recipes". He copied the whole of it onto his own 'pad.
Jaina Solo worried about her uncle and her cousin even though she knew very well they hated her doing it. She tried her hardest not to fuss around them, like her mother, but she couldn't help herself dropping by from time to time for no reason, just to see how they were holding up.
She entered the Skywalkers' apartment one day on one of these visits to be faced with a strange sight. Ben Skywalker was cutting up potatoes on the kitchen counter with intense concentration, his tongue between his teeth as he worked. She walked over.
"What're you upto there, cuz?"
Ben looked up at his eldest cousin and scowled.
"Geez, for a Jedi you don't get very much, do you?"
"Since when do you cook?"
"Since when did you perfect the term 'being totally useless'?"
Jaina took the hint, grabbed a peeler and started on a potato from a small pile.
Ben glanced briefly at her and smirked.
"Makes me feel better just to look at you, sis. You don't know much about this kinda stuff, do you? Maybe I should ask Uncle Han to come over and help next time!"
Jaina ignored his jibe.
"Whatcha making?"
"This."
He pushed over a datapad. Jaina looked down to see a recipe for a baked potato and gelmeat dish.
She chewed her lip doubtfully.
"Looks complicated."
Her cousin smirked wider this time.
"Must seem that way to you. You're holding a peeler like a hydrospanner!"
Now it was her turn to scowl.
Luke Skywalker was not himself these days. He didn't think there was any need for him to be. Nothing that happened around him seemed to register on his conscious anymore. He walked through life in a daze, not living, but existing. So when his son yelled for him to come for dinner, he simply went, not questioning, not caring.
The table was set for two, plates, glasses, cutlery, napkins. If anything, it was the normalcy of the scene that struck him. Things no longer had any right being normal anymore.
"Take a seat, Dad," his son came bustling from the kitchen, precariously holding a large, hot, baking tray.
The smell stirred Luke into his senses. He frowned, perplexed.
"Ben? What's this?"
Ben had no time to stand and answer him. He was busy bringing the rest of the dinner in from the kitchen.
"It's dinner, Dad. What does it look like? Sit down. I'll be right with you."
Luke pulled out his chair obediently, still completely in the dark as to what was going on. He looked up and saw his son, standing in the kitchen doorway. He was pulling off his mother's oven mitts and apron and wiping his brow. Then he turned and approached him with a bright look of triumph.
"Go on. Try it. Tell me what you think!"
Ben's excitement only puzzled Luke further. He hadn't seen such a look on his face since...he couldn't even remember!
Ben sat in the chair facing him, leaning forward and practically bouncing with anticipation, looking almost like an 8-year old again.
Luke slowly helped himself to a small portion of the pie and tasted it. His eyes widened in surprise.
Ben chewed on his lip, grinning, his eyes radiant.
"Well? Did it turn out ok? Does it taste like Mom's?"
His father looked at him with absolute amazement.
"Ben, did-did you make this?"
He nodded in glee.
"It's-it's..."
Ben frowned.
"I didn't forget something, did I? I followed the instructions exactly..."
He grabbed a spoon and dug out a piece for himself, chewing it contemplatively.
Luke's heart was exploding.
"Where did you learn how to make this?"
He couldn't keep his voice steady.
"I found it on Mom's datapad. Dad, don't-don't you like it? Didn't it turn out like she used to make it?"
Luke looked at his son's suddenly worried face and in a swift motion reached over to hug the surprised boy.
"It's exactly like Mom used to make it! It's brilliant! Oh, Ben! You haven't been eating all this time?"
There were tears glistening in his father's eyes. Ben blushed in his embrace, fiddling with a non-existent thread on his pants.
"No, I mean, I have, just... you weren't eating very well, and I was getting worried about you, and I gotta take care of you, and I thought maybe this might make you feel better..."
He shrugged, then said in a small voice.
"I'm sorry I took out Mom's datapad from the cabinet without telling you, Dad. I just wanted to do something..."
Luke looked at his son in astonishment.
"You don't have to apologize, son. Her stuff is your stuff too, you know. You can take whatever you need from there. Ben, I...I'm sorry. I haven't been the best father to you lately, haven't even been there when you needed me..."
Ben fidgeted, even more, uncomfortable hearing his father say those words.
"It's ok, Dad," he said softly, his own eyes growing wet.
"Food's getting cold, though."
Father and son shared a look that said so much more than mere words ever could. There was love there, a love which Luke had thought had become yet another sacrifice to the war.
He let go and returned to his seat. Ben swivelled around and started shovelling large helpings onto his plate. His father smiled.
"You know, this is really good. You just might have a talent for this."
Ben looked at him narrowly.
"You realize I'm your son, and not your wife, don'tcha Dad? 'Coz the flattery's not gonna work on me. You're still doing the dishes."
He smirked evilly.
"And Jaina stopped by to help. So there's a lot of dishes..!"