Family Recipe, page 8
“Hi, Eric,” I mumbled, and poured coffee into his mom’s cup.
As soon as it was full, I rushed straight back into the kitchen.
“What’s wrong?” asked Jenna, passing me with a tray. “You look a little freaked out.”
“Nothing,” I said, and took a deep breath. I tried to avoid Eric’s table after that.
Rich and Jenna didn’t seem to notice, because it was really busy. But Kelsey did. She saw me from across the room and pointed to Eric’s table, then made a face.
I shrugged and went back into the kitchen to hide.
“Hey, I need help,” said Rich. “Syrup on four, please, Molly. Okay?”
“Got it,” I said.
I grabbed a syrup pitcher and went to drop it at table four. You had to wipe down all the syrup pitchers after the breakfast rush because they got so gross and sticky.
As I turned from table four, I saw someone waving a hand at me. It was Eric’s mom.
I could pretend I didn’t see her and rush by, but I knew Grandpa would have a fit. I groaned inwardly and went over.
“Can I get you something?” I asked, trying to look only at her.
“Sweetie, I know you’re busy, but I need some more milk for my coffee, please.”
Eric was doodling on his place mat and didn’t look up. His sister was watching me.
“Hey, aren’t you Jenna’s little sister?” she asked.
“I am,” I said, starting to turn away.
“You’re in Eric’s class, right?”
“I am,” I said.
I felt my stomach flip around again. I looked down and realized that Eric wasn’t doodling on his place mat. He had his family tree sheet out, and he was writing on it.
“Let me get that milk for you!” I said, and turned and fled into the kitchen.
Mom had been working in the office after she brought us to the Park, and she came into the kitchen for another cup of coffee.
“Did you go through a whole pot already?” Grandpa joked. Mom drank a lot of coffee.
“We were up all night again with Ruby,” Mom groaned.
I filled up the pitcher with milk but was just standing there. I really, really didn’t want to deal with Eric Sellers.
“What’s wrong?” asked Mom, narrowing her eyes.
I sighed. You just could not get anything past her.
“Eric Sellers is at table four,” I said. I held up the pitcher. “His mom needs more milk.”
Mom looked at me for a second. “You know, Jenny Sellers and I grew up together. Give me the pitcher.”
I handed her the pitcher. Grandpa looked like he was going to say something, but Mom shook her head and gave him a look.
“I’ve got this. It’s been a while since my waitress days, but it’s like riding a bike. Come on, Molly,” she said, and strode out of the kitchen.
“At least put on an apron if you’re going to serve!” yelped Grandpa.
Mom went right over to table four. “Jenny!” she said. “I haven’t seen you in ages! How are you?”
“Melissa, it’s so good to see you!” said Mrs. Sellers, standing up to give Mom a hug. “How have you been?”
“Can’t complain,” said Mom. “Are you still teaching at the community center?”
“Sure am,” said Mrs. Sellers. “You know, I’ll be stuck in preschool for the rest of my life!” She laughed heartily, and Eric looked a little embarrassed.
“I hear Eric is in Molly’s history class,” said Mrs. Sellers.
Eric looked startled.
“I hear that too,” said Mom, putting her hand on my shoulder.
“Well, I don’t know how you feel about this family tree project,” said Mrs. Sellers. “But it’s causing a lot of drama in our house.”
“How so?” asked Mom.
“Well,” said Mrs. Sellers, “you know Jeff and I divorced years ago.”
“Yes, I did hear that, and I’m sorry,” said Mom.
“Oh, no, no,” said Mrs. Sellers. “It actually all worked out. I’m married now to Dan Ostfield. You remember him?”
“I do,” said Mom. “He was a nice guy!”
“Yep, and he still is,” said Mrs. Sellers. “I suppose at some point I may change my last name to Ostfield,” Mrs. Sellers continued. “But Eric didn’t like the idea of me having a different name than his, so I kept Sellers. For now anyway.”
“I can understand that,” Mom said.
“And Jeff is now married to Laura Farmer.”
“Oh, Justin Farmer’s sister!” said Mom.
“Right,” said Mrs. Sellers. “We’re all very happy and the kids are happy. But this family tree is a problem. Eric seems to think there’s just a straight line in every family and the tree has an even number of branches, like Ms. Blueski drew on the worksheet. But our family has a few more branches.”
“But that’s not what the worksheet has on it,” said Eric.
“Eric really wants to include Laura and Dan in our tree, because they’re like a second mom and dad to him,” said Mrs. Sellers. “And he has stepbrothers and stepsisters. But he’s not sure how to do it, and he’s embarrassed to have a tree that looks different from everyone else’s.”
“I see,” said Mom, giving me a look.
“I told him to ask around, because I’m quite sure there are many kids in the class who have branches that weave around, but he claims no one does.”
Ohhhh. So that’s why Eric kept asking me about my “moms.”
“Well,” said Mom, looking at me.
“I have a couple different branches,” I said.
Eric looked up.
“I was trying to figure out how to put my biological mother on there but have my mom in the main spot,” I said. “Because, you know, Mom is my mom.”
Eric nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “I mean, Dan isn’t my dad—my dad is my dad. But it doesn’t feel right not to have Dan on the tree too.”
“He’s been putting off this project,” said Mrs. Sellers, pointing to his worksheet.
“Me too,” I said.
“I have an idea,” said Mom. “Eric, can I see that sheet?”
Eric handed it to her.
“I can make a copy of this in the office. I don’t know how much time you have, but Molly can take a break soon. Maybe we put you guys at a table with some donuts and you can help each other?”
Eric smiled, and I grinned back at him.
“That would be awesome,” Eric said.
Mrs. Sellers beamed too. “Thank you, Melissa,” she said. “That would be terrific. See, Eric?” she added, turning to her son. “I told you that if you asked, other people could help!”
“Okay,” said Mom. “Molly, you can take a break in twenty, which gives you, Eric, time to eat the rest of that breakfast!”
Eric picked up his fork and started hungrily eating his pancakes.
“Good, right?” asked Mom, and he nodded.
“Best in town!” said Mom. “See you around, Jenny!”
“Thanks again, Melissa!” said Mrs. Sellers. “You have no idea how relieved I am.”
I smiled. She wasn’t the only one.
Chapter Fourteen It’s Dog Day!
I was feeling so much better about things after we spoke to the Sellerses that I didn’t mind that we were so busy. Sundays are always busy, but it seemed even more so today.
I cleared table five and noticed that the Sherers were seated at table two, the big round top.
“Warning,” Jenna whispered, passing by. “Tornado on two! Can you make sure there are extra napkins?”
I breezed over with a stack of napkins.
Christopher jumped up. “Hi, Molly!” he said. “I get to have chocolate chip pancakes today because it’s a Special Occasion!”
“Is it your birthday?” I asked.
He shook his head, but his face had a wide grin. “No, it’s Dog Day. Today, we’re getting a doggy!”
“Oh, Christopher!” I said. “I am so jealous. I’ve wanted a dog my whole life!”
“You should ask your mommy and daddy for one,” said Christopher.
“I have,” I said. “And they keep saying no!”
“Were you bad?” Christopher asked in a whisper. “Because my brothers and I had to do chores and clean up to show our mom and dad that we can help take care of a dog.”
“I have definitely done my chores and listened to my parents,” I said, trying not to crack up. “But they say it’s just too much work for us.”
“It is a lot of work,” said Mr. Sherer. “We are totally nuts for having three kids and getting a dog!”
“But we love dogs,” said Mrs. Sherer. “And with the kids so young, we’re home all the time. Plus, the dog will have three active children to keep her busy.”
“And we’re nuts,” added Mr. Sherer.
I saw Jenna coming out of the kitchen with a full tray. I could tell she needed help.
“Hang on,” I said, and grabbed the tray rest, which is this foldout thing that holds the tray while you unload all the plates.
“Thanks,” said Jenna, putting the tray down and then setting the pancakes in front of the boys and eggs in front of Mr. and Mrs. Sherer. “Can I get you guys anything else?”
“Syrup!” yelled Christopher.
Mrs. Sherer gave him a look.
“Syrup, please,” said Christopher.
I smiled. “Syrup coming right up!” I said.
“Molly is adopted,” said Christopher.
“Christopher!” said Mrs. Sherer sharply. “Oh dear, Molly. I am so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “I am adopted.”
“Her mommy and daddy adopted her like we’re going to adopt the puppy today.”
“No, Christopher, not like a puppy!” said Mr. Sherer loudly. “For goodness’ sake!”
“No, it’s not the same,” said Mrs. Sherer. “But let’s try to help Christopher understand. When you adopt something or someone into your family, they or it becomes a part of your family. A sister is not the same as a puppy, but they’re both members of your family and you love them very much.”
“I’d like a puppy way more than a sister,” said Christopher.
“Well, you are definitely not getting a sister,” said Mrs. Sherer.
“Sisters are pretty awesome, though,” said Jenna.
“I have enough brothers,” said Christopher.
“Yes, you do,” said Mr. and Mrs. Sherer together.
“Okay, Christopher, you enjoy those pancakes!” said Jenna. “Molly, I need you in the kitchen.”
I got the syrup for the Sherers, dropped it off, and went to the kitchen.
“What?” Grandpa asked, looking up from where we stacked the tickets. He was watching to see what people were ordering and how long the orders were taking.
“Nothing,” said Jenna. “Just some talk between girls.”
She started filling up some glasses with orange juice at the counter on the other side of the kitchen, and I followed her. Nans was at the counter too, rolling out dough for the donuts.
“Are you okay?” Jenna asked me in a whisper. “I mean, Christopher is just a kid and all, but still…”
“Yeah,” I said. “It just seems like suddenly the fact that I’m adopted is… I don’t know.”
“What happened?” asked Nans gently.
“Christopher asked if adopting Molly was like adopting a puppy,” said Jenna. “Plus, there’s been some stuff going on at school.”
“Well, Melissa told me about the school stuff,” said Nans, cutting round circles out of the dough.
I wasn’t surprised. In our family we really do tell each other everything.
“I mean, I am adopted,” I said. “It’s a fact. That’s how I got here. But it’s not really a big issue.”
“I understand that,” said Nans. “And it isn’t anything you should have to explain if you don’t want to.”
“Christopher’s just a kid,” said Jenna. “He doesn’t know any better.”
“That’s right,” said Nans. “He’s curious and asking questions, which is natural. But it’s still not okay if it makes you uncomfortable, Molly.”
I thought for a second. “I’m not uncomfortable with it,” I said. “That’s the thing. But it seems like everyone else is uncomfortable with it and no one knows how to deal with it but me.”
“Order up for table three!” came a voice from the kitchen.
“I have to pick this up,” said Jenna. “I’ll be back.”
She looked at Nans, and Nans waved her off. Nans was taking donuts out of the fryer with a slotted spoon, and getting ready to put the next batch in. The donuts looked perfect when they came out, but once she put them on the rack to cool, the inside oozed out a little bit.
“That filling won’t stay in,” I said.
“I know,” said Nans. “And it was driving me crazy not to have it perfect, just like my pies. But you know what?”
“What?” I asked, wondering if she was going to let us all eat the donuts that weren’t perfect.
“It tastes good anyway. And this is a family recipe,” said Nans. “Family is sometimes messy. And sometimes it’s not so bad if what’s inside comes out.”
“Like our feelings?” I asked.
“Yes, feelings,” said Nans. “Especially all the love we have on the inside.”
She finished the batch and had about two dozen donuts on the rack. Most of them were kind of drippy.
“I think these are going to be a hit, Molly,” said Nans. “And I think they’re just perfect.”
“I’m pretty sure I have a table with kids who would love these,” I said.
“The Sherer kids?” laughed Nans. “They love anything with sugar!”
“You know,” I said, “maybe on Sundays for the next month we can pass out donuts to all the tables for dessert, on the house. That way we can introduce people to new flavors they might not buy at first.”
Nans smiled. “Hey, Jack!” she called to Grandpa. “Your granddaughter over here has your business sense. Just listen to this plan she has!”
I explained to Grandpa, who did a little excited hop and gave me a huge hug.
“That’s brilliant!” he said. “Let me round up the Donut Dreams team to help!”
“It runs in the family!” said Nans, and then she threw a few more donuts into the fryer.
I skittered out to the floor because I realized I had been missing for a while. The Sherer table was a mess, and Jenna was trying to collect all the sticky napkins.
“I’ve got it,” I said, coming up behind her.
She gave me a grateful look, then moved on to do coffee refills at her other tables.
The rest of the shift was pretty busy but not terrible. Grandpa handed Lindsay, Kelsey, and me each a big platter of the apple pie donuts with a set of tongs. We went from table to table offering them—and let me tell you, it went over extremely well.
People were so excited. We heard a lot of “Oh, I shouldn’t have a donut, but…,” and then they ate the whole thing in three bites.
Chapter Fifteen A New Member of the Family
After we were on donut duty, as Grandpa called it, Lindsay and Kelsey went back to the Donut Dreams counter, because Sunday was not only the busiest day for the Park, it was the busiest day for donuts.
Mom had made a space for us in her office so that Eric and I could tackle the family tree. I had the copy of Eric’s tree Mom made for me. I tore a page out of my notebook and put a fresh piece of paper in front of me. Eric had his page with a tree template on it.
“Okay, so how are we going to do this?” I said, staring at my blank piece of paper.
“I’ve been thinking,” said Eric. “Maybe we just have to be a little creative. Think outside the lines…”
I watched as he drew in more branches on his sheet, some that were long, and some that were short.
“Now there are more spaces,” he said.
I nodded. “You could also”—I grabbed a pencil and started drawing—“do this…” I drew more of a forest, with a bunch of trees.
“That might work better,” said Eric.
“Right?” I said. “Because this way you can see how all the trees around you make up the forest where you live.” I shrugged. “You can do your family tree however you like. This is just a suggestion.”
“That’s really smart, Molly,” said Eric. “This way you can see that no tree really stands alone. It’s… what’s that word we learned in English lit where an image or an idea stands for something else?”
“Metaphor,” I said. “It’s a metaphor for the fact that no family is really alone, that it takes a lot of trees… a whole forest, really.”
Eric nodded and continued sketching, and so did I. I filled in our family, then added a tree next to us with Aunt Miranda and Uncle Adam.
I sighed.
“What?” asked Eric. “Are you stuck?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I mean, I guess my biological mom should be on here, but I don’t know how to add her.”
“How about a leaf, then?”
“A leaf?” I asked.
“Yeah, just a leaf. I mean, your biological mom doesn’t play into your family, but she is a part of you, or I guess you’re a part of her. So just one leaf on the big branch.”
I thought about that. “Actually, that seems about right,” I said.
I sketched in a leaf off to the side. Mom and Dad still sat on the big wide branch, and Jenna, Kelsey, and I were smaller branches off their big one.
“Hey, I think we figured it out!” I said, and I looked over at Eric’s page. “Wow.”
I had never realized he could really draw. There were all sorts of trees and bushes, and some of them touched or the branches crossed. Some had flowers. It was really beautiful.
He laughed. “I’m going to present this as My Tangled Tree Family Forest.”
“But tangled is good here,” I said.
“It works for me,” said Eric. “I’m sorry that I was pestering you about your tree in class.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “But you should have told me why.”
“Yeah, I realize that now,” he said. “My mom says that sometimes I don’t think before I speak. My sister says I’m just annoying.”
I stifled a giggle.
