I open the drapes to the living room in my apartment and bounce over to the front door after the knock.
“Hi, baby.”
“Hi, Mama.” I lean down and give her a hug. Wyatt files in behind her and we fist-bump each other.
“Have a seat at the counter. Breakfast will be right out.”
Ever since Mama’s last flare and what Daddy said about her elevated blood pressure and cholesterol, anything I serve her is heart healthy. Unfortunately, she doesn’t eat all her meals with me so I can only control so much. I set a plate of avocado toast with crushed red pepper in front of them both, then spoon some lemon and ginger quinoa and oatmeal with blueberries and hazelnut in bowls.
“This looks, er, interesting, Rowan. Very healthy.”
I ignore her snark and pour her a glass of freshly juiced vegetables.
We enjoy our breakfast together with not even so much as a comment on the weather. We all know why we’re gathered here, and no one’s anxious to get this party started.
When every crumb has been eaten and every drop drank, we move into the living room. Mama and Wyatt sit on the sofa while I perch on my desk chair. Mama is fresh-faced but a little pale. It hurts her to be in the sunlight so she stays out of it directly as much as possible. But even though she’s lacking a good dose of melanin, her skin is glowing and her eyes are bright.
Satisfied with my assessment, I take a deep breath. “I think we should drop out of the competition.”
Mama’s head snaps to me. “What are you talking about, girl?”
“I know you don’t like talking about it, but it’s not good for your health. Last time, you were overworked and had a flare because of it.”
“Last time I didn’t take my medicine properly while we were there. I’ve learned my lesson, and I understand I need to start taking this seriously.”
“Mama, nothing is worth your health.”
“We’re not dropping out.” She stands up and puts her hand on her hip. “And I know about you and your father conspiring behind my back. I’m not an invalid, Rowan. I can make my own decisions just fine. And I decided I’m going to San Francisco this weekend. You can go or not. That’s your decision.”
I sigh. “I’m sorry about Daddy. He only wants to help.”
She nods and places her hands on my shoulders. “I know that, baby. And I know that’s all you want. But you have to let me be grown. I’m still the mother, okay?”
All I can do is nod. There’s a catch in my throat, so I stay quiet and look over to Wyatt who hasn’t had anything at all to say since he walked through the door.
Mama turns to him too. “Cat got your tongue, boy?”
“No, ma’am. I’m just waiting for you and Rowan to tell me what to do. Same as always.” He smiles wide and dodges the sofa pillow I throw at him.
When we’ve finished laughing and wiping tears, I broach the next subject. “Last time, you made all the food decisions. I want to the next round.”
She lifts both eyebrows. “Excuse me?”
“We’re going to have to switch it up next round if we want to go to the finals.”
“I don’t see why. Didn’t my gumbo rank the highest out of everything that was cooked?”
I knew that would be her argument, but I’m ready for it. “Yes, and it’s delicious. The Smith’s potpie ranked really high too, but they’re out. They played it safe and so have we. We’ve been cooking what we know. We can’t go safe next round, Mama.”
She presses her lips into a frown and lets out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t know, Rowan. What’s wrong with cooking what we know? It got us this far.”
“Absolutely nothing. Unless we want to win. You can best believe the Everhearts will be bringing every manner of technical delights. The judges will be looking for more than good food, but for difficulty of preparation as well. A wow factor.” I don’t want to upset her, and the flush in her cheeks worries me a bit. “Just promise me you’ll think about it, okay?”
“Okay. I promise.”
I sit by her and lean over for a hug. Wyatt scooches over and wraps his arms around both of us. We may not have come to an agreement, but we’ve made progress. And more importantly, Mama opened up about her illness. Something she hasn’t been willing to do. We’re on the right path and we’re going to kick ass next week.
Migas Tacos
8 large eggs
4 tbsp whipping cream
1/4 tsp kosher salt
¼ tsp freshly ground black pepper
1 tbsp unsalted butter
1/2 cup chopped tomato
1/4 cup chopped onion
2 small jalapeño peppers, seeded and finely chopped
1 cup shredded Monterey Jack cheese
3 corn tortillas, sliced into small strips, and lightly fried
8 small flour tortillas
In a mixing bowl, whisk the eggs with the whipping cream. Melt the butter in a cast iron skillet over medium-high heat, and sprinkle in salt and pepper. Scramble the eggs until just set. Add the tomato, onion, jalapeños, cheese, and tortilla strips. Cook until the eggs are done but still moist, 1 to 2 minutes more. Warm the flour tortillas in a skillet. Divide the eggs among the 8 tortillas, and serve with salsa.
Yield: 4 servings
CHAPTER TEN
Teamwork makes the dream work.
My phone beeps so I turn off my laptop and throw on my Converse. I’m meeting Mike in the lobby, then we’re going to tour the city since he didn’t have much time when we were competing last month.
I head toward the elevator. This time we’re on the fifteenth floor and my room is far from the hotel’s center. Same setup as last time with Mama and Wyatt. Mama’s resting up just as she promised us. Wyatt’s holed
