Our neighbor T's sister is in town this weekend. We've gotten to know her pretty well over the last few years of living next door. She's come to visit at least half a dozen times, maybe more. Going over to hang out for a day of football, food, and video games with her around is relaxing and happy. No "will we get along" stress. We know we like each other. Today was no different.
We had planned on making an elaborate dinner. The guest list was supposed to be a little bigger, but people dropped off as circumstances changed. By the time we settled on the couch for the early football game, it was down to me and T's sister paging through a French cookbook that she had recently bought, making plans for dinner for four. She said they had kind of wanted to make coq au vin, and when my eyes lit up and I said I'd been meaning to try that for weeks, we re-established it as our entree. And then the magic happened: she took over and did all the prep work. The only thing I contributed was coming back to my own kitchen for gluten-free flour and thyme. It's so rare that other people cook for me, and it was glorious. We even took a mid-afternoon break while the chicken marinated, where all four of us took naps and worked to forget the sad ending to that football game. Before we went back next door, Mr S-P took the reins for our meal offering, making mashed potatoes so I didn't have to. Food was fantastic and not having to cook or clean for it was miraculous.
We closed out the evening playing all kinds of video games. Of course we teased T during each game. We always do. At some point, listening to this, his sister said, "Thank goodness he has 'family' here." I agreed whole-heartedly, and said yes, he's everybody's little brother now. She can claim he was her little brother first, but she's fine with sharing him with all of us.
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