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THIRTY
ON A RAINY MONDAY IN LATE APRIL, MARIA DECIDED that Angie needed to learn how to cook. She showed up early, carrying a big cardboard box full of supplies. No amount of arguing could change her mind. "You are a married woman . . . again. You should cook. "
Lauren stood in the doorway, trying not to laugh at Angies protests.
"What are you laughing about?" Maria demanded, putting her hands on her hips. "You are learning, too. Both of you get dressed and be back in this kitchen in ten minutes. "
Lauren ran upstairs, changed out of her flannel nightgown and into a pair of black leggings and an old Fir-crest Bulldogs T-shirt. When she skidded back into the kitchen, Maria looked up at her.
Lauren stood there, smiling uncertainly. "What should I do?"
Maria walked over to her. Shaking her head, she made a small tsking sound. "You are too young to have such sad eyes," she said quietly.
Lauren didnt know what to say to that.
Maria grabbed an apron out of the box and handed it to Lauren. "Here. Put this on. "
Lauren did as she was told.
"Now come here. " Maria led the way to the counter and began pulling ingredients out of the box. By the time Angie made it back to the kitchen, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, there was a mound of flour on the butcher block and a metal bowl full of eggs alongside it.
"Pasta," Angie said, frowning.
For the next hour, they worked side by side. Maria taught them how to scoop out the center of the flour and fill the hole with just the right amount of eggs, then to work the dough carefully so it didnt get tough. While Lauren was learning to roll the dough into sheets, Angie went into the living room and turned on the music.
"Tha
ts better," she said, dancing back into the room.
Maria handed Lauren a metal sunburst with a handle. "Now cut that pasta into strips, maybe two inches square. "
Lauren frowned. "I might screw up. Maybe Angie should try. "
Angie laughed at that. "Yeah. Im certainly the better choice. "
Maria touched Laurens face gently. "You know what happens if you make a mistake?"
"What?"
"We roll it out and try again. Cut. "
Lauren picked up the scalloped pastry wheel and began cutting the pasta into squares. No chemistry lab had ever been undertaken with more care.
"You see this, Angie?" Maria said. "Your girl has the gift. "
Your girl.
For the rest of the morning, those two words stayed with Lauren, warmed her. As they filled the tortellini and finished the pasta, she found herself smiling. Laughing sometimes, for no reason.
She hated to see the cooking lesson come to an end.
"Well," Maria said at last, "I must go now. My garden is calling to me. I have planting to do. "
Angie laughed. "Thank God. " She tossed a wink at Lauren. "I think Ill stick with the restaurants leftovers. "
"Someday you will be sorry, Angela," Maria sniffed, "that you ignored your heritage. "
Angie put an arm around her mother, held her close. "Im just kidding, Mama. I appreciate the lesson. Tomorrow Ill get out a cookbook and try something on my own. How would that be?"
