Recipes*
That evening, the whole family gathered around the small, plastic table in the kitchen, arranged with mismatching foldable chairs. Powder held her doll in her lap, playing with its limbs.
Vander was washing his hands in the sink. Mylo whistled a made-up tune as he handed out glasses and utensils around the table. Vi was standing by the oven, scooping out the chard and handing plates to Claggor.
Powder wrinkled her nose at the plate Claggor placed in front of her.
"Why don't you ever cook?" she asked Mylo, next to her.
"Because men are better at certain chores than women are," Mylo scoffed as he sat down.
Before Vander could turn off the water in the faucet, Mylo grunted as Vi elbowed him in the stomach. Vander glanced over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow, but it wasn't clear whether he heard the altercation or not. He didn't bring it up as he turned the faucet off.
When all the kids sat down, Vander did as well. He turned to Vi and his lips curved into a smile.
"Looks good, Vi," he said.
"I hope so. I did my best," she said.
"Well, it smells delicious," Claggor said.
Vander looked to Mylo, who was already shoveling food in his mouth. "You want to say grace for us?" he asked.
Claggor nudged Mylo, getting his attention. Mylo swallowed the lump in his throat and clasped his hands together, saying quickly, "Grace! Amen! Bless the cook! Let's eat!" and went back to shoveling food in his mouth.
It had become their own family tradition they made up for dinnertime. Instead of a typical prayer, it was meant to be a joke or something silly to make people laugh, but sometimes the effort was lackluster.
"I'll… take that as a compliment, thanks," Vi chuckled before picking up her own utensils.
As the family ate, Powder stared at her plate and frowned. It was something like a lasagna, but it was green, with a side helping of chard that looked like wet mulch. She picked at it with her fork.
"Our mom used to make the best food," Vi said with a wistful smile.
"Homegrown in our own garden," Powder added.
"I want to make some of her recipes someday soon." Vi bit her lip. "If I can find the time…" she trailed off.
"Speaking of time…" Vander spoke after taking a sip from his mug. "It's official. Tomorrow I will be working, fixing cars at Benzo's auto repair. I can pop back shortly for dinner. Then at night, I'll be working at the town bar as bouncer," said Vander.
"When will you be home?" asked Claggor, a beat before Vi could.
"Late," Vander admitted. "But it's until the school year starts. Then I can work something else out."
"So… we'll have the house to ourselves?" Mylo asked with a cocky grin.
"I'm not expecting any house parties while I'm gone," Vander warned, arching an eyebrow.
"Of course not! We won't!" Claggor wisely spoke over Mylo, before he could say something stupid.
Vander leaned over and reached into his brown leather jacket pocket, pulling out his key ring. He fiddled with it until he held a brass copy of the house key. He held it to Vi.
"You all know the drill," he said looking around, "When I'm gone, Vi's in charge. You look out for each other. Understand?"
"Yeah, yeah, we know," Mylo sighed in agreement. The rest of the kids nodded their heads around the table.
Satisfied, Vander dropped the key in Vi's hand, and she pocketed it away for safekeeping.
The kitchen became filled with the sound of scrapping forks.
Powder bit her lip and chose to speak up, "I… I explored the garden today."
Vander looked across the table to her. "Oh yeah? How was it?"
"Well… everything's dead, and I'd need help removing everything… I can't do it by myself…"
Vander glanced around the table. "Sorry, mate. I'll be working. But maybe your siblings could help when they aren't busy."
Powder slouched in her chair, knowing that would be a lost cause. "Fine…"
After a while, Vi spoke up, "I met the neighbors that live downstairs. Miss Spink and Miss Forcible."
"How were they?" asked Vander.
"They were nice," said Vi, chewing and swallowing before continuing, "They were leaving to walk their dogs. You would've liked them, Powder. Cute and fluffy."
Powder wasn't so sure about that. Her sister seemed to think she liked every single animal in the world. That was Claggor's thing, not her thing.
"What breed were they?" asked Claggor, right on cue.
"I think Scotty terriers," said Vi.
Then Claggor went on a passionate lecture about the breed and its origins, but Powder tuned him out. She picked and prodded at her plate some more.
After a while, Mylo spoke up, "If you want, Powder, I could take over cooking."
Powder glanced at him, uncertain if he was serious or not.
"As I recall, it was you that left the stove running making cookies, last time," Vander said in his deep yet melodic voice, with the barest hint of a warning tone.
Mylo shrank a bit in his chair, clutching his stomach. Powder didn't touch her plate, a bruise growing in her stomach too.
It made her uncomfortable thinking about what happened to their old home.
"At least the insurance gave us some money to tide over for the move," Vander said, slouching back in his chair, lightening the mood, "and everyone was safe."
"Which is why," Vi said with a smirk, leaning over the table to pass the chard around, "you are banished from the kitchen. Now, you have laundry duty."
"And you've never had cleaner clothes!" Mylo snapped in his defense. "You animals!"
This made everyone chuckle around the table, but Powder silently poked at her plate with her fork.
Vi noticed and reached for the jug of milk, pouring a glass. "I promise we'll go food shopping as soon as we can. Try some of the chard. You need a vegetable."
"Looks more like slime to me," Powder tried to whisper to her.
"Well, it's slime or bedtime, fusspot," said Vander from across the table, "Now, what's it gonna be?"
Powder whispered to her doll, "Think they're trying to poison me?"
She made the doll's head nod in agreement. Powder sighed, leaning back in her chair.
…
Soon, Powder had brushed her teeth and was dressed in her pajamas and plopped into her bed, staring up at the ceiling.
It was plain white with a crack running through it that was patched over unevenly. The ceiling was blank right now. With all the moving, nobody had time to help put up her glow-in-the-dark stars yet.
She looked over at the old stool beside her bed, which she was using as a nightstand. There was barely enough space on its seat for three things: Her outer space themed lantern lamp, her alarm clock, and a picture frame.
Powder picked up the picture frame and set it in her lap. It was a very old picture, taken when Powder was three. Vi was eight. They had been playing dress-up, wearing their mom's old clothes. Vi was grinning at the camera, wearing a gold necklace and earrings that belonged to their mom. Powder had makeup drawn all over her face, hugging Vi's old bunny toy.
The two of them sat together with their mom on the front porch of their house.
It was a white country house, somewhere in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by farmland.
Heather was her name. She had long, lilac hair, tied back in a braid that hung over her shoulder. She wore a sun hat that blocked part of her face, a brown T-shirt with dates of concert tours on it, and blue overalls. She hugged the two of them with her gardening gloves on.
Jumping into frame beside her was their father. His name was Ethan. His body was slightly blurry because he tripped while running back to them to be taken in the picture before the countdown. He was a goofball and was often wearing his gray army hat.
Or, at least, Powder was told…
"I don't remember much of my old life," she said to her doll.
The doll didn't reply.
"Sometimes… I can barely remember what Mom and Dad were like. I know Mom cooked a lot and she liked to garden…"
Powder sighed and bit her lip, thinking how Vi's face seemed more and more familiar than their own mother's.
Would I have been happier…?
"I know it's dumb, but I wonder how… life would be different if Mom and Dad were around."
Placing the picture back, Powder turned and shut off the lamp beside her bed.
"Good night, little me," she mumbled behind a yawn and a tiny smirk.
Then she closed her eyes and drifted off as best as she could in the dark and still unfamiliar house.