Family Stew.
What a brilliant idea, dear, to serve guests a whole pot of borscht, grumbled Martin, wrinkling his nose as he lingered in the kitchen doorway. The air was thick with the scent of fried tomatoes and cabbage that had been simmering since last autumn. Theyre used to posh restaurants in London, not this this humble broth. Bring them something more exciting, not this this.
Meatballs are on their way, a salad with mayo, and crêpes, snapped Evelyn, her voice sharp. And a carving board, too. Just leave me alone, you old fool, Ill manage without you. Get out before I give you a ladle for a hat. Waitstay. Turn the pot off in five minutes; Im going, she added abruptly, tearing off her apron.
Where are you off to?
Martin, flustered, tugged at his trousers and glanced nervously at the stove.
To the meeting. They said theyd be here in ten minutes. Ill pick up some extra bread; someone never seems to eat enough.
Evelyn smoothed her hair in the hallway mirror. Her short, neatly curled bob, the typical style for a woman of her age, sat perfectly, but it irritated her. Once shed been a blooming beauty, holding onto that image for years. Now she felt the inevitable fading that no one could stop.
Are they really that young? Theyll get up on their own, Martin said, surprised.
Dont you start fluttering about, dear. Ill handle it without you. Remember the pot, and dress properly, for heavens sake, instead of wandering around in your underwear.
Why are you so cross today? Martin protested.
I dont know! Evelyn snapped. Youll never understand, you old man.
She swayed toward the lift, hips swaying with each step.
She was incensed. Her son Tom returned home every one and a half to two years with a new girlfriend, each one more pretentious and demanding than the last. Some were vegetarians, some on diets, some wanted the food too salty or too greasy, some complained there wasnt a proper knife for the restaurantstyle meals they were used to. It seemed theyd never be satisfied.
The girls always turned up their noses at Evelyns cooking. This time she decided not to try too hardjust a simple, everyday stew, enough to keep them from going hungry.
The street greeted Evelyn with a gentle May breeze. She inhaled the fresh air, feeling steadier before spotting Toms silver sedan pulling up. Tom, now thirtyseven, still had no stable job, earning a living from his various online gigs and software tinkering. He rushed in, eyes bright, Mum, well get up ourselves, thanks. He pulled Evelyn into a hug and introduced, Mum, meet Emily.
Hello, Emily said cheerfully, nodding.
Evelyns face lit up. Finally, someone who looks like an ordinary person, no pretensions. She smiled at her sons new partner, thinking, If shes decent, maybe this will finally work out.
Shall we sit? Tom asked.
Hold on, Mum, theres a bag of drinks and a box of gifts in the boot for you, from Emily.
Really? Evelyn said, intrigue sparking in her eyes. Emily beamed.
Emilys an environmental activist, so the gift is something for the housesomething ecofriendly.
Evelyns enthusiasm faded a bit, Maybe I leapt to conclusions too quickly.
Mom, could you take the bag yourself, please? Ill carry the boxEmily cant lift heavy things, Tom offered, struggling with the bulky package.
Evelyn, already mentally shelving any hope of a new relationship for Tom, snatched the bag robotically and set it down in the hallway.
After the brief greetings, everyone settled at the table. Emily didnt flinch at the borscht; she took a spoon and began to taste. She spoke timidly about her work, blushing. Im part of a small team that monitors local water quality, she managed.
Is it a proper job? Evelyn asked.
Yes, Im officially employed.
See, Tom, youve been without a contract for ten years, your work record collecting dust. What will you do if you fall ill? What about a pension? Time flies, and youre already thirtyseven.
Ill never make it to retirement, Mum, dont worry.
Dont be so sure. One day youll sit on your rear end, and youll wish youd planned better.
Enough, stop ruining my stomach. Dad, pass the crêpe and cheese, Tom tried to change the subject, but his father kept cutting in, shouting his wishes.
Emily stood, cheeks flushed. The borscht is delicious, Evelyn. May I clear the table?
The women began stacking dishes. Spotting the unsightly stove, Emily waved her hand. Your gift is here! I almost forgot!
She opened the box, displaying a set of biodegradable cleaning products. These are ecofriendly kitchen cleaners our company makes. They dissolve in water and are derived from fruit and vegetable extracts. They work on everything, not just the kitchen.
Shall we try them now? Emily suggested, her smile widening. Ill treat the stove, and you can wash the dishes with this gel.
Evelyn stepped back, shielding the stove. No, love, I havent cleaned it in three days; its embarrassing.
Dont worry, I grew up in the countryside and have seen every kind of stove, Emily laughed. You can spray it yourself, and Ill finish with a sponge.
Emily whisked through the washing up while Evelyn idly rolled crumbs across the table, peppering Emily with questions about her education, family, and how she met Tom. The answers were sincere and satisfactory. When Emily turned to the stove, she scrubbed effortlessly, and the grime vanished.
Thanks for the lovely gifts, Emily, Evelyn admitted, still wary of hidden motives.
Suddenly, Tom clinked his glass, calling everyone back to the sofa. He hugged Emily tightly, laid his hand on her belly, and announced, Emily and I have decided to get married.
Ah! Evelyn gasped.
And theres more Tom continued, eyes shining. Were expecting a baby. Expect a grandchild this winter.
What joy, Lord! Evelyn exclaimed, throwing her arms wide. The Holy Mother has heard my prayers; the angels have smiled upon us!
She reached out, embracing Emily, and gently shushed Tom. Take it easy, love. I know how to handle a pregnant woman.
Emily, tears in her eyes, whispered, Evelyn, could you share some of your recipes? I cant cook a stew like yours.
Evelyn, beaming, replied, Emily, thats my dreampassing on my culinary love to my granddaughter and to you.
The day ended with laughter, a steaming pot of borscht, and a promise that family isnt built on flawless meals or perfect plans, but on the willingness to share, forgive, and nurture one another across generations. The real nourishment, Evelyn realized, was the love that simmered beneath the surface, feeding everyone who gathered around the table.
