Family Kitchen Box Set

Chapter 4

Chapter 4By the time they got to the hospital, Justin seemed to be in better control of his emotions if not necessarily the situation.

Del took over where he could, and in short order, he was left sat in the waiting area with the older kids while Justin took Scarlett with him.

As soon as there were no nurses nearby, he put the clipboard down. Harper was already pacing, her movements jerky, as if her little body contained so much rage at the world, it was impossible for her to stay still.

Wyatt, on the other hand, had climbed on a chair and sat there, looking…numb, maybe. It was hard to tell, because he didn’t seem to vocalize anything.

Sighing, Del grabbed the closest magazine from the rack—something about alien conspiracies and Bigfoot sightings, it seemed—and leafed it through while keeping an eye on the kids.

Neither of them relaxed, although after fifteen minutes, Harper went and sat next to her brother. Wyatt seemed to be drooping but stayed stubbornly awake and alert. Del didn’t want to think about why the boy had learned to do that, he couldn’t have been more than four years old.

They were close enough to the nurses’ station that when there was a lull in the general noise, Del could hear them whispering about the O’Dwyer kids being there. Ah, small towns. Del felt disgusted.

He needed to help Justin out once more with a judgmental nurse before they were free to leave. At least Scarlett was asleep and the older kids were relaxing slightly now that their brother was back. Del wasn’t sure if Justin noticed that, exhausted as he was.

The news of their mother being dead had…made sense, sadly. It had crossed Del’s mind that she was on a downward spiral when he’d seen her in town a few times. It seemed that Justin was trying to take over.

Del wasn’t sure how he felt about the way Justin had tensed visibly when Del had mentioned Clyde. He couldn’t tell if it was a homophobic thing or just a surprise, and decided there was no reason to dwell on it.

They drove back home in silence, Del thinking hard all the while. Justin was clearly in over his head. The kids were having issues. There was no actual warmth between Justin and the little ones, and with what Del could remember hearing, Justin hadn’t been around for a while. It had to be a horrible situation.

It was that thought, more than anything, that made him offer help if Justin needed it. The shocked expression on his face as he gathered his siblings in their driveway told Del more than anything so far. Justin didn’t expect kindness, but he needed it more than anything.

* * * *

The next morning, Del woke up to the rumble of the school bus passing by his house. With his bedroom being toward the front yard, the bus woke him up more often than not, if he’d stayed up too late.

It still felt weird, waking up to it, because it felt like sleeping in big time. Working in kitchens and then running one had had him on crazy schedules long enough that waking up in regular person time was still a luxury.

He’d gotten less sleep than he normally did these days after dropping off the O’Dwyers. It had taken him ten months to get to a steady six hours-ish of sleep every night, and having less than that felt like an odd, unwelcome jolt to his system.

He got up and staggered into the bathroom, and as usual, by the time he got to the kitchen he was relatively awake.

He used his French press on autopilot and opened his laptop to check the news while he waited for his brain to boot.

As he sipped his coffee, he tried to remember if there were things he was supposed to do that day. Well, apart from the obvious. He still had stuff in the fridge that needed to be cooked, because he hated to throw away anything, especially the more expensive stuff he got as a delivery every week. Connections were awesome that way, even if it cost him an arm and a leg to get fresh ingredients from Portland.

If it hadn’t been for the house and his mother’s gentle suggestion of it not leaving the Abbot family, Del wouldn’t have chosen Enterprise as a base. At least he wouldn’t now. A year ago, when he most needed to get out of California, it had felt like he best available option.

The house with the four bedrooms, three bathrooms, study, large family room, and massive kitchen was a lot for one person. There had been a dining room, but when he’d moved in, he’d had the wall between it and the kitchen torn down and now the kitchen looked like a small restaurant’s kitchen more than a regular home one.

He really, really needed someone to look at the house to figure out the priorities in further renovations and fixing what was falling apart. At least Del had no illusions about the condition of the place.

Once he felt awake, he texted Bernie to see if she was available, then started a video call on the laptop.

As usual, she looked efficient as f**k for the early-ish hour. She’d already sent her husband to work and made sure her two boys had made it to the school bus in time. And she’d probably called Abigail to make sure she’d made it to morning lectures at her college in Denver, too.

“What’s up?” she asked, sipping on her massive coffee mug. “Did he call you?”

“Oh no. My night turned out much more interesting than that,” Del replied. He changed his mind about sitting in the kitchen and took the laptop to the couch instead. He balanced it on his lap and made himself comfortable.

“I sense a story here, do tell while I make some toast for myself.” She propped her tablet against something on her counter and got to work.

“So last night, I fell asleep on the couch and got woken up by a bunch of kids banging on my door.”

“Kids? There? Wait, was it the O’Dwyers? Aren’t they really young?” she asked, while he watched her hands move in their task in the way he’d seen her make toast since they were children.

“Get this, the mom, whatever her name is, apparently died four days ago. The oldest kid, Justin, it looks like he’s back and trying to take care of the little ones.”

She leaned down to peer into the camera. “Wait, doesn’t…hold on a minute.” Bernie gestured with her hand and vanished from the view.

Soon enough, Del could hear her talking to someone. He concentrated on trying to figure out who she was with, but then he heard steps coming closer. Suddenly the toaster popped and he jolted.

“Holy s**t!” Del hissed, holding his hand over his heart.

“Language, Delbert,” his mother said, picking up the tablet and peering into it. “What’s this about the O’Dwyers?”

Great, thanks Bernie, for telling Mom was at your place. Del groaned internally.

“The woman died and the oldest came back to take care of the little ones, I guess?” he recapped, and Mom frowned thoughtfully.

While Bernie buttered her toast, Mom went to sit at the table. “He has to be about twenty now. But the kids, isn’t the youngest still a baby?” she asked, looking worried.

“Yeah. She’s maybe year and a half. The others are like…maybe four-ish and six?” Del shrugged, he couldn’t tell closely and now regretted not having asked Harper when they were waiting.

At Mom and Bernie’s request, he told what had been going on the previous night, and both women hummed and gasped in the correct spots, ending up looking even more concerned than Del felt.

“A boy that age getting custody, if that’s what he’s after, it’s gonna take some funds,” Bernie stated.

“Who owns the house?” Del asked, because he had no clue despite owning the neighboring one and having stayed there for a year.

“Not Tracey, that’s for sure. I don’t know, but I’ll find out,” Mom said, looking determined.

“Mom, don’t go poking into—”

“It’s not that. I’m worried, Del. I have friends in town still, they’ll know.” And would they ever. O’Dwyers had a reputation as a family, and it wasn’t just Tracey and her kids, either, but the whole big family of them.

“How will he feed them all?” Del asked the most pressing question that had been on his mind since he’d dropped them off that night.

“Well, if you know anyone who can cook on a budget…” Bernie smirked.

“I’m not adopting a twenty-year-old and his little siblings!”

“Who said anything about adopting them?” Bernie’s expression changed into a more serious one. “Look, you’re a caretaker at heart. A guy that age with three kids…it’s not going to be easy.”

“Yes, your sister is right,” Mom piped up. “From what I remember, he’s been gone for years now. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen when he ran off. None of those kids have fathers, you know?”

And this was the kind of nasty gossip that Del wanted to know, really, deep down. He hated himself for it, but it was something he felt like someone should take into account.

He didn’t have to prompt Mom, so he just sat back and listened to her talk.

“I don’t know about Justin’s father, but I know Tracey had him really young. That was a scandal on its own back then. Then she got into drugs like most of the O’Dwyers do eventually—”

She was cut off by Bernie’s pointed “Mom!”

“Oh hush, you both know the reputation that family has in that town.” And Del did, now that he cared enough to try and remember. “Anyway, I don’t think any of those kids have the same dad. I remember the oldest girl’s father. He’s in prison for murder, I think. He was a big black man and you can guess what the town racists said about that.” She looked disgusted at the casual small town racism, which made Del love her even more. She didn’t take anyone’s s**t, not when it was about things people couldn’t help like race or sexuality.

“So none of the dads will come and swoop the kids into safety?” Del knew the answer already, but he had to ask.

Mom looked dead serious. “No, which is why Justin needs help. The kind his family won’t be able to provide.”

Del hummed noncommittally. He wasn’t sure about any of this, of anything his mother was trying to say.

“I’ll let you know when I’ve asked around about that house. Just…you know, be the man I know you can be, all right?”

“What does that even mean?” Del grinned at her.

She snorted. “Be my Del. Just be you. The rest will sort itself out.”

“Yeah, Delbert, be you,” Bernie cooed in a tone that was as familiar to Del as his own voice.

He groaned loudly. “Go eat some toenail clippings, Bernice.”

She shrieked. “I wasn’t eating them!”

Bernie tried to grab the tablet, but Mom held it out of her reach. “Stop it, you’re both too old for this kind of behavior.” Before either of them could say a word, she continued, “You’re still young enough to be sent to your rooms, though!”

Mom’s eyes were twinkling, and they all burst into laughter. Yeah. Del loved his family.

“Talk to you later, Mom.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She made a shushing movement with her hand, the tablet rocked, and the connection closed as she swiped the screen.

“Be me…?” Del whispered into the silence of his big, empty house.

It was good, solid advice. There was just this one tiny problem: Del didn’t know who he was anymore.

* * * *

The next morning, he woke up to the school bus rumbling again. Once he was ready for the day, he began to dig through Nanna’s recipe books for something child friendly. There were so many recipes, scribbled down on the faded pages he still needed to copy onto his computer for safekeeping.

It was an embarrassment of riches, Nanna’s recipe book, so Del put it down and thought for a while. Del and Bernie’s Nanna might’ve been Irish, but their paternal grandparents were of Italian descent.

That thought led to Del to another source, his very first cookbook, his Italian Nonna’s present for him when he’d announced he wanted to be a chef at the ripe age of sixteen.

Of course both Nanna and Nonna had taught him things in their own kitchens, but this particular book, Authentic Sicilian Recipes, was an old favorite. It had served him well, but he was pretty sure that the O’Dwyer kids wouldn’t appreciate anything with eggplant in it and that had seemed to be the trend when the book was written.

It took him a while more, pondering over tastes and textures, what would be easy to make in a large quantity and what would warm up nice and tasty the next day. Del realized he was having fun, considering the endless options.

Once he made up his mind, he took a trip to town for some fresh ingredients he didn’t have in the house. He spent the better part of the day using his pasta machine and making sauces for a proper lasagna. Once he had it in the oven, he realized he needed something sweet for dessert.

He’d loved lemon bars as a child, so he hoped that would work for Justin and his siblings as well, and made a large batch. As he waited for everything to be done, his mind provided him images of pizza, a healthy version of mac and cheese, snickerdoodles, maybe brownies, too. Things the kids would like but Del could make sure weren’t crap quality and but instead made with fresh ingredients.

* * * *

Del was washing up when he heard the school bus again. Perfect timing.

He packed the goodies into his car and drove the short way to Justin’s house. Or whoever’s house it actually was; his mom still hadn’t gotten back to him on that.

He could hear screaming as soon as he stepped out of his car. Great. Sounded like Harper, though, and not Scarlett. That was a plus in his book, but then what did he know about handling three little kids.

He left the lemon bars in the car—he refused to pile the dishes on top of each other—and quickly walked to the front door.

There wasn’t a doorbell, just a spot where some wires came out where one should’ve been. Del had a quick thought of using the wires like someone might hotwire a car, just to see if the bell still worked. Snorting at himself, he rapped his knuckles on the door while balancing the lasagna with the other hand.

The screaming stopped. Then a small face appeared in the nearby window. Wyatt.

The little boy raised his hand just enough for Del to see his fingers and wiggled two at him. Del smiled.

The door opened and an incredibly harried looking Justin stared at him for what must’ve been five seconds.

“W-what…?”

“I made food for you guys,” Del said, pushing the lasagna dish against Justin’s chest until he instinctively grabbed it. Then he looked past him and saw Harper edging closer. “Miss Harper? Can I borrow you for a moment?”

She looked suspicious, but her curiosity won over. “What?” Her tone was so much different than her brother’s Del had to hide his smile.

“There’s a plate of lemon bars in my car. Could you go get it?”

She looked dubious, then glanced at Justin who nodded, still obviously trying to parse together what was happening.

Del stepped aside, and she dashed down the path to the driveway, almost colliding with the door of Del’s old Beemer. “Back seat!” he called after her, and watched as she opened the door with incredible tenacity and then wrestled the covered plate out.

“I won’t drop it!” she yelled back, before Del or Justin had time to give her any obviously unsolicited advice.

Del glanced at Justin, who looked from her to him right at the same exact moment. Del couldn’t read Justin’s expression, but the boy blushed lightly, or maybe it was a trick of the light. Either way, it was…charming.

“Go on, take that inside and pop it in the oven for five minutes. It should be still warm on the inside,” Del said, nodding to the lasagna.

Justin vanished inside, and Del watched as Harper made her way ever so carefully to the house. Her little tongue was peeking through her lips, and she’d even managed to close the car door. It seemed like it took everything she had to get to Del, but when she did, she beamed up a huge, gap-toothed smile at him.

“Well done!” Del praised her, and she preened for all of two seconds before her gaze turned into suspicious and jaded again. “Can you carry it to the kitchen, or should I take over?”

“I’ll do it,” she announced, and did just so as Del stepped inside after her and closed the door behind them.