Hudson's Heart

Hudson's Heart Chapter Twelve

"Right, Georgie. Can you grab that beef from over there? I'll show you what to do with it," Martha says, bending down to reach inside a cupboard. She pulls out a large slow cooker, bigger than any I have ever seen before.

I'm spending the morning with Martha. We're having that cooking date she promised me. I'm glad that she still wants to spend some time with me, after Dade telling her about us. I was so nervous about Dade's family finding out, due to the fact that I'm a holidaying customer. However, they've taken the news very well. I almost feel like part of the Hudson family, they've all been so lovely and welcoming.

"So, what are we making, Martha?" I ask with keen interest.

"Crock pot chuck roast dinner," she answers, in a funny singsong voice.

"Crikey, that's a mouthful," I giggle.

"It's absolutely delicious and so easy to cook. You'll be able to cook it for your family, once you get home," she happily replies. Such an innocent thing for Martha to say, but the thought of home, only makes me realise what I will have to leave behind. My smile is faint, as I sadly look away.

"I guess so," I quietly reply.

"Have you talked with your mother?" Martha asks, seeking eye contact from me.

"I've only spoken to her once, but I text every few days."

Martha warmly smiles. "I bet she's missing you."

"Maybe," I say without emotion. Impressive for someone who is such a mass of unpredictable emotions at the moment.

Martha begins to unwrap the beef. "I'm sure she does, Georgie," she says with confidence.

My eyes remain fixed on what Martha is doing with the meat. My emotions, teeter on the edge within me. I choose my words carefully. I really don't want to make a complete fool of myself in front of Dade's mother. "I know she's missing me, but we don't always see eye to eye over things," I admit.

Martha looks at me with a raised brow. "Being a parent isn't always easy, Georgie. Take it from someone who knows." She heartily laughs, putting the beef into a bowl.

"I guess, we're just very different, that's all. Mum thinks I am too spirited and impulsive."

Martha's lips press together, with an impressed nod of her head. "Both useful qualities for a person."

I lean back against the kitchen worktop, crossing my arms with a grin. "Sometimes, I just feel there's so much more for me in this big wide world. That's exactly why I ended up here," I say, glancing sideways at Martha who is smiling at me.

"I can understand that, Georgie. You are young. You have an adventurous mind and heart, but you'll have to settle down sometime," she says, using her wise words and life experience.

I move closer. "Didn't you ever want to explore the world, Martha?" I ask with an interested tilt to my head.

Martha snorts. "Why ever would I want to do that? I have everything I could ever want, right here," she says it with a contentedness that I know, all too well. The adventuress within me has now been fully satisfied, now that I'm here at Prairie Point.

"Finding this place. I can completely understand that, Martha," I dreamily answer.

I sense Martha's hesitation. She takes her time to think first before addressing me. "So, you didn't feel satisfied in England?" she asks with a tight, nervous smile.

"I have felt unsettled, for a very long time, back home, but here . . ." I pause, looking into Martha's kind eyes. "Here . . . I feel happy," I add with an embarrassed smile. My face, neck and ears suddenly begin to feel uncomfortably hot. Why did I have to get all swooney on Dade's mother?

Martha steps sideways, getting closer to me. "Would that be because of my wonderful boy?" she asks with a slanted grin.

Shit! Is it me, or is it getting really hot in here? My whole body starts to cringe. Embarrassed . . . doesn't quite cover it, right now. "It is," I shyly reply. Continuing to blush profusely in front of Martha.

She apprehensively clears her throat. "I won't lie, Georgie. I do worry about both of you. You've become awfully close, in such a short period of time." She shuffles her feet beneath her, giving me an assuring smile. "I also know my son; he tried to fight what he was feeling for you, but he decided to take a risk. As his mother, I support his decision, as painful as that risk may be," she adds with motherly affection.

I turn to her, panic all over my face. "I would never hurt him, Martha," I blurt out. The very notion makes me nauseous.

Martha's eyes are veiled with doubt, worry, and sympathy. A spherical concoction of maternal protectiveness. "I know that, Georgie. However the sad truth is, that come next Saturday, you will both hurt each other unintentionally." She reaches for my hand, now holding a knife in a death-like grip in her other. A huge lump of pain is forming deep down in my throat. I can't break down in front of Martha. If I break, I may not stop. She's now looking at me with such sweet warmth and empathy, that I continue to fight the emotions that are raging war inside of me. Just when I think I am going to have to make a hasty retreat from the kitchen, just enough time to get my shit together at least, Martha distractingly rubs my hand.

"Okay, enough chatter! We should be doing more cooking, or this roast won't ever be ready for our family dinner tonight," she says cheerfully.

I sniff, wiping away an errant tear, so very grateful for the change of subject. "Our dinner?" I ask.

"You're coming to dinner tonight, Georgie, a Hudson family dinner. Do you honestly think that I would have you make it and then not invite you to eat it?" Before I even have a chance to reply to a grinning Martha, she carries on talking. "Besides, this is Dade's favorite dish." she smirks at me with a crooked brow,

I coyly smile. Inwardly pleased as punch that I am invited. "Thank you, Martha. Tonight sounds lovely."

She cheerfully slides the carrots and potatoes nearer to me. "Alright then, dear. I need you to start peeling these, pronto. They need to be cut into large chunks. Then, I can share the secret of this recipe . . . tomato juice, Worcester sauce and tapioca," she says with a playful wink.

I busily start peeling. Enjoying this bonding time with Martha. "How long does it take?" I ask.

"We'll start it out on high for an hour and then eight hours on low," Martha explains.

I'm at a loss for words. I absently rub my eyelid. "Eight hours? We really do need to get a shifty on . . . or none of us will be eating tonight." I cock my head then laugh. Martha's warm laugh soon follows.

I'm so grateful to share this morning with Martha, who is not only hard working and tenacious but also a loving mother. She has a strong maternal side that is both unyielding and attentive, without being controlling or domineering. She nurtures her children without trying to forcefully mould them into who they aren't. I have nothing but complete admiration for this amazing matriarch of the Hudson family.