Chapter 10

I eyed the slew of vegetables that were on the counter.

Freshly rinsed potatoes and carrots clumped together in large bowls and cans of plump tomatoes.

I hated the smell of fresh tomatoes. It was odd since I liked the smell of cooked tomatoes. It was something that my family and I could never get but it was an easy feat to fix. Sometimes I would help my papa and dad when it comes to preparing dinner, especially when it's about a request I make for dinner.

With the wind cooling to an uncomfortable chill, I was desperately craving for stew beef and cheddar biscuits. 

“I’ll start peeling the potatoes.” Papa plucked the vegetable from the bowl. He eyed the potato, seemingly satisfied with the way it looked, and turned to me. “You can start cutting the carrots.”  

“Okay!” I chirped.

Carefully picking up my knife, I grabbed the carrot with a glove covered hand. To my papa, I’m still too young to cut vegetables without supervision. To my dad, I’m also too young to cut vegetables without a glove. 

“Now remember, you need to be careful when you cut the carrots.” My papa spoke as he carefully skinned the potato in his hand. He dropped the potato in a different bowl, reaching back for another one to skin. 

“I know, papa.”

“Make sure your fingers are curled.” He continued.

I sighed, “I know, papa.” 

As I carefully sliced the knife into the vegetable, I could feel papa peering at my work. Knowing that this was going to keep happening until he was satisfied enough with what I was doing, I did my best to ignore him. I’m used to his slight paranoia when it comes towards certain things about my brothers, dad, and I. 

I could hear someone coming into the kitchen. I ignored it, trying to focus on slicing the carrot in my hand.

“It smells good in here.” Dad chirped.

“It’s stew beef.” Papa answered, gesturing towards the stove. A chunk of beef was quietly sizzling on the pan. “Noémie was craving it.”

“It’s the perfect weather for it.”

“See!” I beamed smugly. 

“Uh-huh,” Papa rolled his eyes with a snort. He turned his attention back to dad. “What are you doing in here?” He waved his knife playfully towards him, “If you're not here to cut or peel, then leave.”

Dad rolled his eyes, “I’m here to talk to my daughter.”

“You can talk to her and help her cut carrots.” Papa insisted as he turned his attention towards the stove. I watched as he carefully probed the meat. He flipped it, eyeing the seared flesh before taking it off the heat. 

“So bossy.” Dad teased as he slid next to me. He smiled, picking up a carrot and a knife. “Stew beef, huh?”

“I really wanted it.” 

“I can tell.”

We worked in silence for a few minutes as Papa scurried around us. As he gathered the rest of the ingredients for the stew, seasonings and broth, dad and I managed to work through the pile. It wasn’t long before we filled the bowl with sliced carrots.

“Done papa!” I presented the bowl to him.

“You and your dad did great.” He accepted the bowl with a smile. “Go have a quick chat with your dad and I’ll show you how to make the cheddar biscuits.”

Turning my attention back to dad, he gestured for me to follow him out the kitchen. I followed him, slightly nervous about what he wanted to talk to me about. I don’t remember doing anything bad. I’m pretty sure I’ve been on my best behavior lately. And if I wasn’t, I’m sure papa would’ve tried to interrogate me while we were in the kitchen together.

“You're not in trouble.” Dad said once he saw the nervous look on my face. He crouched down, his soft gaze roaming my face for something. “I just wanted to ask how your feelings about the guest were about to have.”

“Feelings?” I echoed.

“I know it was a lot to process at the moment.” He began, “Having someone you don’t know moving into your home without much of a choice. I just wanted to know what you thought about it.”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged, “I think it's very sad he has to leave his home. I’m happy we can help him, though.”  

“I’ve always wondered where you get your sweetness from.” Dad jokes. A sweet smile made its way to his face. A sight I eagerly returned with a smile of my own. “I’m happy you feel that way now. But if that feeling ever changes, let your papa and I know. We’re always here to listen. This is your home too.”

I nod.

“We’re good?”

“Very good.”

He reached over, much to my displeasure, and ruffled my curly locks. I grumbled unhappily at the sight, reaching up to try and swat his hands away. He conceded, snickering at my frown. “Have fun making biscuits with your papa.”

“I will!”