“Cary?!” Junie shouted. “What a nice surprise!”
He smiled at Shiloh. “Can I come in?”
“Yeah.” She laughed and stepped back. “Come in.”
He walked past her, taking off his cap and running his hand through his hair.
“Did you come for a visit?” Junie asked.
“Cary came for dinner,” Shiloh said.
“That isso nice.”
“I agree.” Shiloh looked up at him. “I could feed the kids first, if you want?”
“Just do what you usually do.”
“We usually all eat together.”
“Let’s do that.”
“Okay,” she said. “Come help me. How’s your mom tonight?”
He followed her to the kitchen. “Better. Every day that she’s better, I realize how bad it was when I first got here. She’s sitting up now. She’s eating.”
“Is Grandma Lois coming for dinner?” Junie had trailed behind Cary.
“Not tonight,” Shiloh said. “Junie, go wash your hands.”
“Hey there, Cary,” Shiloh’s mom said, still eating the melon. “I’m sorry your mom’s having a rough time.”
“Hi, Gloria. Thanks.”
Her mom wiped her hands on a towel. “I’ll go get Gus ready to eat.”
Shiloh nodded her thanks and got out a stack of mismatched china bowls. The soup had been in the slow cooker all day. She opened the lid.
“You really made split pea soup...” Cary said. He was washing his hands in the sink.
“Yeah?” Shiloh picked up a ladle.
“I thought that was a joke.”
“Why would that be a joke? You don’t like split pea soup?”
“I don’t know that I’ve ever had it. Do kids eat pea soup?”
“I find that kids eat just about anything if they don’t have other options. Your mom never made this?”
“My mom made... Well, she made sure there was baloney and Wonder bread in the kitchen.” He shook his head. “That’s not fair. She cooked sometimes. Spaghetti. She cooked when my sisters were younger.”
“Gloria cooked when she wasn’t working...” Shiloh said, ladling out a bowl of soup with lots of ham and potatoes. She raised her eyebrows. “Which was, you know, occasionally. I try to cook when the kids are here.” She held out the bowl. “You don’t have to eat this if you don’t like it—but pretend to like it if Junie asks. There’s bread, too.” Shiloh handed him a spoon. “We sit at the table.”
Cary walked out, but then came back to help her with the rest of the bowls and spoons. Shiloh got out the milk. “Cary? Do you want a beer?”
“No, thanks.”
She took the rolls out of the oven and grabbed the butter.
