Yo Mama Roasts 소설 & 이야기

Gianna ━⊰ ❦ ⊱━ I was back at the Rose Garden, which was basically a fancy way of saying a place where girls got dressed up to be arm candy for guys with too much money. "I’m telling you, Mama D, they aren’t humans," I groaned, throwing my head back so hard my ponytail nearly hit the floor. "They are like... six different flavors of Doom. It’s a Doom Buffet." Mama D, the only woman I knew who could look scary while wearing a floral robe and holding a cigarette, blew a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling. She looked us over like a mother hen guarding a bunch of sparkly chicks, "They’re Capones, G."

The person says, who is none other than Mario, her ex-husband. Xavier, who has never seen his mother gets upset other than in the office, was suddenly shocked. At first, he wanted to defend the uncle who is offering him the sausages, but he's getting scared. Xavier chose to hug his mother tightly after all. "Mom, let's back home." Xavier whispers in Lucrecia's ear. The whispers instantly muffled Lucrecia's emotion which is about to burst. Lucrecia exhales slowly, trying to hold back her anger. Then turn around to Alan who is cooking the sausages.

“Whatever you make, Mama, I’ll eat it. But don’t burn your hands.” “You talk big, Rosanne. Didn’t you burn your hands too while playing with that match?” “I wasn’t playing! I was practicing my power, using Papa’s technique to calm my mind and meet my wolf someday!” “Blah blah, you two talk too much.” “Mama, you’re such a bully!”

I close my eyes and allow the memories to swim in my head. Flash back. 15 years ago. The smell of roasted beef fills the kitchen, making me smile with excitement. I love when mama makes roasted beef for me. It’s so delicious. I’m sitting at the small wooden table, my legs swinging because they can’t reach the floor yet. Mama moves around the kitchen with ease, humming softly as she places a plate in front of me. Thick slices of beef, still steaming, and a scoop of mashed potatoes she knows I like even though Papa says they’re too soft for a future Alpha.

Mamà’s pained yell peeled through the walls as they burned. "No. No. No." I mumbled, then tried to take a step closer. "Mamà!" I screamed when a huge chunk of wood fell. Flames separated me from my mother. She remained on her knees. Our gazes clashed. Then she… smiled. Mamà smiled so much her eyes crinkled. I became weak. Too weak. And I crashed to the floor. Heat clawed against my skin, yet my insides remained intact. Frozen by pain. "Look how gorgeous the flames suit your red hair, My Fina." Mamà said, and a tear rolled down her cheek.

When it seems like she’s not going to drown, I pull on a robe and head to the kitchen. The smell of loukoumades nearly lifts me off my feet like a cartoon character. I float in to find Mama at the stove. More alarms blare upstairs. “Morning,” I say over the noise. “Zouzouni!” Mama whips around, abandoning her food for one of the first times ever, and bursts into tears. “You look so beautiful.”

My mother calls upstairs. "Hi, Marie. Something smells really good." Jayson sniffs the air. She places her hand on her hip. "My world-famous pot roast. Are you staying this time? I'm sure there's enough to fill the belly of an Alpha." She giggles. I look at Jayson. "Yes, he's staying." I bite my bottom lip grinning. Maddie comes down in shorts and a rocker t shirt. Bopping away to music, when her eyes catch Jayson's.

“Alright, into the heat it goes.” I slide the tray inside, setting the timer. As it roasts, Mamá starts on the side dishes—golden, crispy patatas bravas and a fresh tomato salad. I find myself slicing tomatoes in silence, lost in the rhythm of the knife against the board. “You always loved cooking,” she muses, stirring a pot of simmering sauce. “Even when you were little, you’d pull up a chair just to watch me.” I smirk. “I just liked the taste tests.”

"Maryam isn't familiar with all those meals you're listing." "Eh ... It's because you're always cooking noodles for her." Mama retorted and then turned to Maryam again who was now smiling. "Don't worry. After you stay with me for about a week you'll get fat. Your mom and dad won't even recognize you when they see you again." "But Grandma, do I really need to eat Eba?" Maryam asked, squeezing her face like only the thought of it could make her puke. Mama nodded in affirmative.

Scarlett The house smells like roast chicken and rosemary potatoes. It’s one of three things mom can cook. The others are tomato soup and spaghetti bolognese. The fire crackles in the hearth even though it’s not that cold outside. It’s there for comfort more than anything else. Warm, golden and fragrant. Mom’s chopping carrots at the counter, efficiently and a little too fast. She can’t cook worth a damn, but put a knife in her hand and she shines.