You Can Smell the Love

Only mom can generate this much love.

————

Jean pulled the glove-shaped pot holder over her hand. Opening the oven door she felt a rush of hot air against her face. It made her flinch and back away from the stove. The pumpkin pie on the center rack filled the kitchen with the delightful aroma of cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger.

She didn’t mind the crack in the custard filling, or the darkened rim of the crust. She knew these small imperfections would go unnoticed on individual wedges topped with whipped cream generously applied from the aerosol container.

She closed the oven leaving the pecan pie to bake a few minutes longer as the pumpkin pie was moved to a cooling rack. Even with the oven door closed the air in the kitchen was still warm in sharp contrast to the outdoor air which only recently reminded everyone summer was over and autumn had arrived. It was Jean’s favorite time of the year. School was in session and the big holidays were nearing. It was football season. She loved the sport and the excitement it brought.

The pies were abandoned on a wire rack to cool as she prepared dinner. Earlier, she saw the children slyly consume candy from the Halloween treasure obtained the previous night so a savory-flavored rotisserie chicken with mashed potato and packaged gravy were more than enough to eat, and they were simple to prepare. She decided to add a can of stewed tomatoes for a little color. She emptied the can into a small sauce pan and put them over low heat to simmer. She knew the children would turn a nose to the tomatoes, but she enjoyed the tomato-bread concoction. Any leftovers would not go to waste.

After calling everyone to dinner she laughed to herself. The dog was the first to arrive, with tail wagging hard enough to move her hips. Her keen sense of smell detected the rotisserie chicken. The wings and back were labeled “canine” and she knew it.

The boys “pigged out” on mashed potato and gravy, while the girls picked at the chicken. Only Jean ate tomatoes; she appreciated the lack of competition.

Though she anticipated a great many leftovers, Jean was surprised the only leftover was the aroma of pumpkin pie spices.

 

By Robert L. Scarry

From: United States

Twitter: usnavy1990bob

Facebook URL: https//www.facebook.com/Robert.Scarry.3