Page 54 of Teaching the Kot'oll Coach

I put on a smile as I take off my shoes.

Father is inside the kitchen with Mother, leaving Efaze and Vatok playing card games together and Kazin scrolling his phone on the other side of the couch. Grihul is staring at the window from the other side of the house, seemingly thinking about something.

I wonder where I should put myself.

There is a bag of fruit on the table, which I think Efaze brought from his store. I put my box of chocolate next to that.

Father looks at me from the kitchen. “You’re finally here, my boy. How are you doing?” He waves for me to go to the kitchen as he helps Mother with whatever that’s in the oven. A pan of spaghetti is already out and tempting for me to steal the cheese on top.

“I’m doing great. Thank you for visiting me when I was in the hospital. I wish I wasn’t occupied somehow when you were there.”

“It’s okay, son. We just wish you are fine, which you look to be.”

I put up a smile even though my palms are sweating. “I’m good as new.”

“You sure think you’re a hero and, ouch—!”

Mother sneers at him and slaps his hand.

Father clears his throat. “I mean, it’s brave for you to do that, but be careful next time. You can’t always—“ He clears his throat again and pulls out the tray inside the oven. “I mean, yeah, something like that. Stay safe.”

I nod and get out of the kitchen as Father hoists the roasted amoda to the dining table with the heat-proof mat and big knife.

Mother winks at me, so I go over. She says, “Don’t mind him. You know we all care about you and wish you all the best.”

“Thank you, Mom.” I give her a hug.

She hugs me back and pats my back. “Here, take the utensils, everything’s here now.”

“Sure.” I pull open the drawers and gather everything.

Mother heads out with a large bowl of stir-fried vegetables with the perfect cheese sauce. “Boys! Get ready at the table!”

I follow her outside with plates, forks, knives, and napkins in my hands. Mother is always nice to me.

It doesn’t take long before everyone is seated.

I stare at the amoda thigh. Will today be the day I get it? I don’t remember who got it last time, but this time...

Father cuts the amoda into slices and puts them onto the plates that are put in front of us.

My stomach rumbles and my hands are twitching to get started. I can only hope no one finds out about that. Food is always amazing when I’m done exercising.

Father tears off one of the amoda thighs and puts it on my plate. “Here, you will have it to make sure you’re healing up.”

“Thank you!”

Amoda thigh is the best part of the bird, the juiciest, and... Oh fuck... Can I eat already?

“Ah, nice for you.” Kazin eyes my plate and I glare at him. He sits by my side and looks like he is going to steal my food from me, which won’t happen.

Father put the other thigh on Mother’s plate. No one complains. Father always gives Mother the best, then it’s between us; the kids. One time, he murmured about how it was hard to make sure every food was equal between the five of us. I used to care, but now that we are all adults, not as much.

After Father is done putting the first round of meat on everyone’s plate, Mother stands to arrange the vegetables on our plates.

I wonder whether we’re the only family who does this, or whether it is a kot’oll thing. I can serve myself, but somehow...

Maybe I’m just hungry and impatient.

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