From the Ashes (2013)
“Jesse fiddled with the tablecloth, but then noticed he was doing it and laid his hands flat on the table to stop his fidgeting.
The table was set with his grandmother’s silver and some plates he didn’t recognize. He didn’t want to ask whether Dad had taken the other set when he left.
“It smells delicious,” Tomas said, ever the momma’s boy.
“Oh, it’s nothing. I used to make this all the time when Jesse was a little boy.” His mother set down the chicken pot pie and serving knife. “Do ...you want to do it?” Handle turned out, she offered the knife to Jesse.
“Sure.” That had always been his father’s job when they’d been seated around the table. Jesse tried to ignore the twinge of fear that his dad was going to burst in and ask for his knife back.
He pressed through the flakey crust, then took his mom’s dish and served her first.
“Oh, I can wait.MoreLess
The table was set with his grandmother’s silver and some plates he didn’t recognize. He didn’t want to ask whether Dad had taken the other set when he left.
“It smells delicious,” Tomas said, ever the momma’s boy.
“Oh, it’s nothing. I used to make this all the time when Jesse was a little boy.” His mother set down the chicken pot pie and serving knife. “Do ...you want to do it?” Handle turned out, she offered the knife to Jesse.
“Sure.” That had always been his father’s job when they’d been seated around the table. Jesse tried to ignore the twinge of fear that his dad was going to burst in and ask for his knife back.
He pressed through the flakey crust, then took his mom’s dish and served her first.
“Oh, I can wait.MoreLess
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