Simmer: An Inferno World Novell - Measha Stone Page 0,2
to be expected. He’s still feeling guilty. I won’t tolerate any level of dishonesty in my home, and he knows that. They all do. I’m clear in my expectations. There’s less misunderstandings that way. But even knowing it was against the rules, Elijah gave his bacon to Nicolette. The boy can be too soft with her sometimes, that’s why I have the rules. To keep that from happening.
“Looks good,” I compliment Nicolette. She needs to know I’m pleased with her efforts. Positive reinforcement for the good. Loving consequences for the bad.
She lifts her head, gifting me with a small smile. She’s standing beside my chair, hands folded in front of her, her head still slightly bowed. Such a good girl.
“Go on, boys. Sit,” I tell them, and they scramble into their seats. I hold out the chair for Nicolette and gesture for her to take the seat. Her tone is sweet when she thanks me. Once she’s tucked into the table, I take my seat and place my hands on the table beside the pile of bowls.
“Well, I think you’ve outdone yourself.” I smile at Nicolette as I pick up the top bowl. I hold up the dish toward the pot and give her a nod.
Like the good woman we’re teaching her to be, she uses the ladle to scoop a hearty portion of the lamb stew, filling my bowl. She puts it back in the pot and sits back in her chair, waiting for my permission.
Can’t spoil the kids—a good lesson Daddy taught me and Madeline. Have to keep firm boundaries. I wish Madeline had taken the lessons more to heart. Nicolette has her looks. Sometimes it’s a comfort to see her in our daughter’s features. Other times, it’s a reminder to keep my strength about me. Moments of weakness will allow chaos into our home. And I will never allow that.
I chew a large piece of lamb. Damn, she’s a good cook. I’ll need to make a trip to the store soon so she has a full pantry again. Can’t expect the best from anyone if you don’t give them the right tools. Daddy taught me that too.
“Delicious.” I grin between bites and grab a piece of the cornbread. It’s still warm.
The bread is sweet and buttery, exactly how I love it. She tried a few recipes, but she’s gotten it right now. I don’t think she’ll need any more reminding about her job duties in this area.
“Go on, Nicolette. Your brothers are hungry.” I point to the pot, steam still rising from the stew. A hot meal. It’s a good reward for them today. Even Elijah. He took his consequence well, and that has to be rewarded too.
Nicolette takes the top bowl from the pile and fills it, handing it to Mark, my oldest.
“Thank you, Papa,” Mark says to me as he takes the spoon she offers him. I acknowledge him with a nod. Good manners are important. And showing appreciation toward those who provide is part of that.
“Thank you, Papa,” Elijah says, bringing his gaze to mine. I hold his attention for a long stretch before giving him a nod. Once I’ve accepted his gratitude, he digs into his meal.
“Go on, Nicolette.” I let her know she can fix her own bowl. She scoops up her stew, then picks up her spoon.
“Thank you, Papa,” she gifts me with a small smile.
The kitchen is quiet except for the soft clanking of their spoons inside their bowls. Each of them minds their manners, not shoveling their food into their mouths like ungrateful, spoiled brats.
“Papa,” Mark puts his spoon down, “I was thinking today about the chicken coop. It’s got a hole in the back fence. If it goes untended, the chickens might get out.”
He’s got a good eye for things that need fixing. Even better, he has hands that can do all the mending.
“Then I guess you should fix it tomorrow. Take Elijah with you,”
“Thank you, Papa.” Mark goes back to eating his stew.
“I collected enough eggs for scrambled eggs for breakfast, if that’s okay with you, Papa,” Nicolette offers.
“Bacon too,” I add, finishing off the last bite of my dinner.
She stares at me silently, like she’s trying to figure out if she should say something.
“What is it, Nicolette? You know you can tell me anything.” Always be open to hearing the kids out. Never make them think they don’t matter. Because they do. We’re a family, and we take care of each other. We love each other.