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As soon as my father finishes giving thanks, everyone reaches for the nearest platter to start serving themselves. Ariella’s hand on my arm captures my attention while Jerry reaches for the hashbrowns. I try not to scowl at him for beating me to the food, but I fail miserably. When he laughs, I grunt in displeasure.
Alex reminds me, “You snooze. You lose, Daddy.”
“What is so special about the hashbrown casserole anyway? You look like you’re ready to go to war over it,” Ariella questions.
I reach for the scrambled eggs, spooning some onto her plate and mine. “They’re loaded with bacon, green onion, cheddar cheese, and a sour cream base. The top layer has a bit of crunch to it, while the bottom is soft. I can’t pinpoint exactly what makes it so special, but the combination of ingredients and the perfect blend of spices is like a symphony in your mouth.”
“It’s made with love,” my mom declares.
Jerry snorts next to me. “And a lot of butter. Everything is awesome if it’s got bacon and butter.”
When the casserole dish finally makes its way back to me, I can’t help but frown. There’s only enough left for one serving, and Ariella’s plate is still hashbrown-free.
“This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted, Grandma!” Alex announces. The groans of delight from everyone else only reinforce his words. Reluctantly accepting that I will not have any this morning, I give Ariella the last serving.
“Now that’s true love right there!” my mom hoots. “I have never ever seen my boy willingly give up his favorite food for anyone! Not even me!”
“I can share with you,” Ariella offers.
I shake my head. “Thank you, but no. A few bites would only be a tease for both of us. We would both be left wanting more; neither one fully satisfied.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” she says. I can only assume by the blush on her cheeks that she’s referring to our earlier kiss. “Thank you for your sacrifice.” I watch her face as she puts a fork full of delicious goodness into her mouth. Her eyes close as she savors the flavors, groaning in pleasure. Everyone around the room is doing the same thing, rubbing it in my face and enjoying doing so.
I mumble to myself, “No good deed goes unpunished.” I must not have said it quietly enough because Ariella laughs lightly and squeezes my leg under the table.
My mother stands up and places her napkin on the table. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I forgot something in the kitchen.”
“You must love Mommy a lot,” Alex states.
“I do. As much as I love you!” I tell him.
“Would you give up your hashbrowns for me?”
“Without hesitation.”
“Thankfully, you don’t have to,” my mom says from behind me. She’s carrying another large casserole dish, which she sets down in front of me. My eyes widen in pure delight when I see that there’s plenty more to go around.
“Was this some kind of test?” I ask.
“Everything’s a test, Son,” my dad retorts. “But you passed this one with flying colors.”
After breakfast was over, everyone pitched in to help clean up, giving my parents a much-needed break. Unfortunately, this is a farm, and breaks don’t last long. My dad needs to tend to the horses and prune more apple trees in the orchard before spring comes.
“Can I help with the horses?” Alex asks hopefully. Although I want to wrap him in bubble wrap to protect him from the outside world, I know he needs to get outside and run around.
“As long as you stay with me or Grandpa and don’t run off. Can you promise me that?”
“Yes!”
An hour later, everyone but Jerry is bundled up and helping out with the chores around the farm. Jessie and Savannah are in the barn, brushing down the animals while Ariella and my mom feed them. Alex is helping me muck the stalls and lay down fresh hay. We’re all dirty, sweaty, and having a wonderful time.
“I need to go feed the chickens. Do you want to help me with that? If you don’t, Grandpa could use your help shoveling manure for the garden.”
The look of horror that crosses his face is priceless and I can’t help but bellow out a laugh. “I take it you’d rather help me with the chickens.” He nods fervently.
“I don’t think I’m ready to shovel poop yet, Daddy. Maybe when I’m older, like 50.”
“Yeah, Buddy. It’s not my favorite thing to do either, but it has to be done. It helps our vegetables grow nice and big.” Thankfully, my dad uses commercial fertilizer for the orchard and industrial farm equipment to spread it.
