Friday

I needed to learn to cook.

As I watched five-year-old Jace at the toy stove trying to fry plastic bacon in a water cup, I knew that would be what I’d look like when others tried to watch me cook.

I knee-walked over to him and picked up the perfect replica of a real frying pan on the floor, amused by his enthusiasm at trying to stir the bacon in the cup.

“Maybe this would help?” I suggested, holding up the frying pan.

Little wide eyes swung over to me, taking in the pan. He stared at me, then the pan, then back at me, only to shake his head. “Nu-uh. I’m making a hot bacon smoothie.”

I frowned, letting the pan drop, and shrugged. “Okay.”

Hot bacon smoothie? My nose wrinkled and my gag reflex wanted to take over, but I gritted my teeth and knee-walked over to Gina, who was not even a year, and tickled her stomach.

As I played with the little girl, my thoughts strayed again to my lack of cooking skill. So far, we'd been surviving off leftovers from the guys’ mom and Sarah. I was glad Jace wasn’t cooking.

I could at least attempt to cook, but it didn't help that our appliances currently weren’t in upstanding condition. However, I did have the crockpot that I was gifted from my bridal shower.

If I wanted to have my perfect home, I needed to learn to cook, and keep my husbands fed.

That’s what ran through my head as I picked up toys from the kids who had just left to go eat lunch at SSK.

I had worries about not being perfect. I was striving for it, but as Kayden had said, we didn't need to be perfect, just happy. And I wasn't sure why or what had me so... I couldn’t think of the word—maybe uncomfortable? Unsatisfied? I shouldn't be. I had my house. I had my guys. So why wasn't I happy?

The clock chimed for lunch, and all the paras rounded up their kiddos and headed toward the hallway and kitchen for mealtime.

Perry paused with little Gina on her hip and waited for me to stand.

When I was eye level with Perry, my gaze turned over to Gina in her arms. She was eating a slobbery fist. I drew it out of her mouth and cooed. “Such a good baby, aren’t you?”

Gina kicked her legs and let out a happy sound. She had the bluest eyes that could make anyone melt, just like Lincoln’s. It was a shame she ended up here.

Perry chuckled. “She is a little sweetheart.”

Drawing away from the temptation to hold Gina’s wriggly little body and snuggle her, I stepped back and looked around the room. It was like a tornado had whipped a Toys R Us around and dropped it. “I’ll stay and pick up a bit while you feed her.”

“Sounds like a good trade with how she eats!”

I laughed and agreed. “She is a messy eater.”

“Hey, Faith?”

I turned back to Perry to find her paused in the archway that led to the hall. Her short brown hair was pinned back to one side and her eyes crinkled as her lips drew up into a sweet smile.

I couldn’t help it as my lips twitched upward. “Yeah?”

She gave what I could only call a nod of approval and said, “You’re going to be a great mom.” Then she left before I could say differently.

I stood there as realization dawned. My hand rested on my lower stomach. I was worried about being a good mother. The thought had me staggering and finding the closest chair to sit on. Was that what this was all about? My uncertainty? My worries? That I wouldn't be a good enough parent?

I sat there for a good while until my uncle came and found me. He stood just inside the entryway between the hallway and the room. I glanced up and found his eyebrows drawn down with concern. “Are you okay?”

He stepped my way but paused when I stood, dropping my hand from my stomach. “I'm fine. Just...” I shrugged, folding my arms over my body.  “It's all overwhelming at the moment.”

He nodded, not judging me. “Your mother, she was full of spirit. When she was younger, I remember her having big dreams and being determined to follow them.”

Bitterness ate at me. “She chose to abandon me when she lost Austin. Just like my father. Her determination? Where was that when I needed her? Her determination to live. To move on?”

My uncle sighed. “Things like that, addiction, it takes a toll on the body. No matter if it's drugs or alcohol abuse. It's hard to come back from. I’ve heard some say you have to hit the bottom to be able to rise to the top. Your parents were at the bottom, but there was nobody there to help them when they were at their lowest.”

I bit my lip, trying not to cry. “I was there.”

“Yes, but I should have been there for her—for you. I can’t change what happened. Why do you think I do what I do?”

My heart ached. “But you weren't there for me.” My eyes lifted to his and saw the hurt. My resolve softened a bit. “You weren't there for me,” I repeated, “but you were there for me in ways you could be. And for that, I’m grateful.”

He gave a rough cough. “For all the good it did me. We stayed away to focus on Marissa’s behaviors and years later, she’s still in trouble. We’re not even sure what to do about it.”

I went over to my uncle and placed a gentle hand on his forearm. “Just love her. Let her make those mistakes and support her as she’s figuring things out, but don't make decisions for her. She'll need you both to help her, but ultimately she’ll need to figure out the rest.”

He drew me into an awkward hug. He whispered against my head that I was a good kid and he was sorry he couldn't be there when I needed him the most.

I drew away and wiped my nose. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

I walked off toward my locker for a much needed break, with my emotions everywhere. It seemed as though I could hardly control the waterworks nowadays. Sometimes it was embarrassing.

Once at my locker, I pulled out my phone to check and see if I had any messages. There was one from Reyna asking if I could babysit her little one next week on Tuesday, the day before my doctor's appointment.

I responded back with a yes and then moved on to my next message from Tyler.

He had something to do after work so Kayden would be the one picking me up. Knowing Kayden would be the one to come and get me, I texted Sarah asking if she would be interested in teaching me some crockpot skills. I was hoping that Kayden could run home and get the crockpot then take me back to Sarah's. With that underway, I put my phone back in my locker and returned to work

***

I often heard when you give a man a fish, you feed him for one day, but if you teach him to fish, you feed the man for a lifetime.

After work on Friday, Kayden picked me up and took me to Sarah's. She was going to teach me the crockpot lifetime meal and we’d work up from there.

Now in her kitchen with the pot, I just had to figure out how to unclamp the lid.

“It latches on from the sides,” Sarah explained as she brought out the intimidating ingredients for the meal we were going to make.

I found the clamp on the sides of the lid and loosened them. “Ah-ha!” I triumphed proudly. “It came off.”

She laughed. “Only you.”

I eyed the cans of soup and chicken Sarah was putting on the counter. “What are we going to make?”

“Chicken sauce. All you need to do is add the rice.”

“But I don't have...”

Sarah pulled out another appliance that looked similar to the crockpot and gave me a wink. “I have you covered. It's a rice maker. You can take our old one because we bought a new one.”

“You don't have to–"

I paused when she gave me one of her, ‘do not mess with me’ smiles and stated, “I'll buy your child all yellow jammies if you don't take it.”

I wrinkled my nose and gratefully accepted the gift. “Thank you. I will cherish it and raise you cooking lessons twice a week.”

She laughed. “Deal.”

“I’ll need to know how to use it if I’m going to make dinners with it.”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “It's really not that hard, Faith.”

“Said the horny man to his miserable pregnant wife,” I quipped.

Her eyebrows rose questionably. “Already?”

My eyes grew wide as saucers. “What? No!”

She put a hand on her hip. “You said it.”

I shook my head and started my task of opening up the soup cans. “Nope, we’re still going strong, but I've read horror stories about that on the pregnancy forum.”

“You're on a pregnancy forum? Why can't you do the same thing for cooking?”

I grimaced. “I tried and found out I’m more of a hands-on type of learner.”

Sarah stopped what she was doing and eyed me. “Mmm,” she said, almost disbelieving. “Is that what those late-night sneak-ins with the boys were all about?”

I cracked a grin. “What? Can’t a girl take the hands-on approach to learning?”

“What does that mean?” came a small and tiny voice from behind me. Sonia had walked in, and she was always full of questions.

Sarah answered for me as my mouth flopped open and closed like a fish. “It means someone learns better by doing something themselves than by watching someone else do it.” Then she sent me, what I liked to call, the hairy eyeball. That was her way of telling me not to make any grownup jokes around Sonia.

I sighed and went back to opening up cans. “We're going to make dinner,” I explained to her, “so people can eat at my house.”

“Why can't you live here again? You could eat here if you lived here,” she reasoned.

“Because now I have my own house with my own people.” I sent her a small, soft smile. “I have to feed them too.”

She wrinkled up her nose. “Just tell them to go back home, then you can come back here.”

Sarah chuckled. “Remember, it doesn't work that way, baby.  Now run off and see what Bates is up to while we finish up in here.”

“Okay,” she chirped and ran off, calling out for her younger brother.

“Alright!” I clapped my hands together when all the cans were open. “What now?”