Page 7 of A Recipe Called Home

Snagging a parking spot in front, Jules made her way into John’s Shoppe, eager to see if it had changed at all.

The layout was different, but it still had that fresh baked bread smell that she loved as a kid. The narrow aisles donned shelves full of fresh and imported ingredients, many from Italy. Soon, she found herself standing in front of the dessert case and picked out a dozen Italian cookies, her favorite.

After sneaking a bite of cookie, she wandered through the store, pushing a half-sized cart, trying to decide what she should cook for dinner. Grandma Rosa hadn’t texted her, so she was on her own.

Inspired by the variety of ingredients around her, ideas were toppling over themselves as she felt a spark of creativity for the first time in a while. It didn’t take long to fill her cart to the brim.

“You’ve got quite the collection of food here,” the store’s cashier commented after Jules had made her way to the only till.

Jules shrugged. She probably went overboard, but she didn’t want to limit herself. The thought of cooking made her excited to get back in the kitchen. And she wanted to redeem herself for last night’s sad performance. Satisfied with her purchases, Jules loaded the bags into the car and made her way to Nicholson’s. Her sore ankle throbbed a little, reminding her to go slow.

The clean and organized hardware store smelled like paint and pine wood and was illuminated by bright LED lights hanging overhead. Standing just inside the front glass doors, Jules scanned back and forth, looking for anyone who could help; she had no idea where to start. Losing hope in finding someone who worked there, she took her time navigating to the plumbing section using the aisle signs that hung from the ceiling. Nothing looked familiar to her as she stared blankly at the various tools and parts hanging from the rack. With a grunt, she pulled her phone out of her purse and punched “how to fix a leaking sink” into Google where she found several articles detailing what she’d need and how to do it.

Back at home, Jules put away the groceries and laid out the tools and parts she purchased on the counter to take inventory. All of her motivation disappeared.

“What’s all this?” Grandma Rosa asked, taking in the sight.

“The sink is leaking, so I went to Nicholson’s to get a few things. I’ll tackle it tomorrow,” she said, biting the inside of her cheek.

“Baby girl, that’s not your job. I can hire someone to do that.”

‘Baby girl’ was the nickname Grandma Rosa used for her whenever she was trying to be sensitive or cheer her up. Hearing it now, Jules felt tender towards her grandma, especially knowing she never had to worry about things like leaking sinks when Grandpa Lou was alive. He took care of her this way, always putzing around the house to fix it up. It was his pride and joy.

The thought made her even more determined. She didn’t want her grandma worrying about a silly sink. Plus, if she was going to be here, she needed to be helpful.

“Let me just try. I googled how to do it. God knows there are plenty of other things around the house that could use a professional. Like the ceiling fans upstairs that won’t turn on.”

“Oh, yougoogled it, I stand corrected. You are now a certified plumber,” her grandma teased with a wink. Jules just rolled her eyes and shook her head. She’d figure it out.

Jules gathered the spaghetti, pancetta, and cheese she had picked up from John’s earlier to make dinner.

Grandma Rosa guessed right away it was for spaghetti carbonara. They’d made it hundreds of times together, so Jules knew she wouldn’t need her grandma’s help this time. She could make it in her sleep and hoped her grandma would sit back and relax, but Jules should have known better. At every step, Rosa chimed in, “Are you going to grate the cheese by hand?” or “You’re not going to use cream right, just pasta water like I taught you?”

It slowed Jules down, but she didn’t mind. She loved being back in this kitchen cooking with her grandma. It felt more natural to her than anything had in years. And it tasted delicious.

As a child, Jules always thought she’d go to culinary school and work her way to becoming a successful chef, taking the food world by storm. No doubt in her mind that she’d make it happen, just like her great grandfather. But as with most childhood dreams, its shine faded, reality eclipsing its allure.

Jules didn’t realize her family wasn’t “normal” until she entered middle school. Her family didn’t look like the other nuclear families around her. Sure, she had a mom, but she was hardly ever around, and she never knew her father. Her mom didn’t say much about him, except that he left when Jules was three months old. As she grew older, Jules learned she could only depend on a few people: her grandparents and herself. That’s when her dreams of becoming a celebrated chef faded into the rearview mirror.

Jules knew she had to be strong and sensible, because no one was going to save her. And that meant going to college, getting a degree, and then a respectable and safe job. She wasn’t willing to gamble stability on a childish dream.

After dinner, they sat upstairs together in the TV room in their pajamas, watching aLifetimemovie. Jules was transported back to being the eleven-year-old little girl who used to spend many nights up here doing the same thing. She loved these simple evenings with her family.

“You know, I’ve missed cooking with you,” her grandma said during a commercial break, almost reading her mind. “But it seems like you don’t do much of it on your own.”

“Is it that obvious?” Jules asked. “I don’t really have time for it and it’s just me now, anyway.”

“Hmm.” Jules felt her grandma hesitate, not wanting to offend her. “Well, I’m glad you’re here to cook for us,” Rosa added.

“Me, too." She was glad. It felt good.

“You know, I have a box full of old recipes that I haven’t made in years. I was going to work my way through them this year. You know, before I became helpless,” she said gesturing to her hip.

“You’ll never be helpless. I bet you can get through the recipes by Christmastime.”

“I have a better idea. Maybe we could do it together, while you’re here?” she asked, looking at Jules. “It would give me an activity to focus on. A person can only watch so muchLifetimebefore their mind turns to mush.”

Jules took a moment to think before saying anything. She thought maybe her grandma was offering more for Jules’ benefit than her own, but itwouldgive her something to do besides playing caretaker and worrying about her career, not to mention all her life choices leading up to this. There was nothing like idle time to make a person spiral into doubt and anxiety, which is why she always kept herself busy.

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