Greg’s sense of astonishment stayed with him through the entire evening, lingering straight through until bedtime. Even after the children were tucked in, and he and Susan were preparing for bed themselves, the evening remained unusual for a number of reasons. The most notable of these was that once Greg himself was ready for bed, he found Susan praying out on their balcony instead of waiting for him on or in their bed. Typically she only did that if she was troubled by something and he immediately concluded it was a result of their earlier dinner-time conversation.
“Susan?” Greg called questioningly when she came in.
“You were waiting up for me?” she asked in surprise. “I know you have to get up early for services tomorrow. You didn’t have to do that.”
“Strictly speaking perhaps not, however given the turn of events this evening, I wanted to,” Greg told her.
“You’re still worried about my interest in learning Hebrew,” Susan guessed.
“Shouldn’t I be?” Greg questioned. “Isn’t your request for more information about the educational services available at or through the synagogue a case in point for when I should worry?”
“You weren’t concerned about it when it was Zackary asking the questions,” Susan reminded him.
“That is different. Zackary is an intelligent, sensitive young man looking for his faith, seeking direction and guidance from those he knows and trusts. Being asked for and providing information in that situation is entirely appropriate and is intended to be supportive of his efforts. You are my wife, my partner, my equal in this life. You have your faith, Susan. It is well developed and you know what it is you believe, however you are asking to learn Hebrew. Zackary is right. Learning it is associated with the Jewish faith … but I suppose as I myself pointed out to him, others do learn it,” Greg said, arguing with himself.
“Yes, they do. And I was considering being one of them, provided an appropriate class or setting can be found,” Susan explained. “Who knows, in addition to gaining a better understanding of the scriptures, maybe it will help me understand you at some newer level too.”
“You do not need to learn Hebrew to understand me,” Greg assured her. “I may be Jewish, but I am not a Hebrew man in that sense. I’m an American, like you. I think, read, dream and pray internally in English.”
“Internally you do? The prayers you say aloud usually are Hebrew,” Susan observed.
“They are, but as you were correct in pointing out earlier, true prayers are not simply recitations of words composed by somebody else, they are communications from the heart to the Almighty. I generally compose mine in English mentally then go through the exercise of translating them into Hebrew before formalizing them as a chant,” Greg explained.
Susan arched her brow. “You see? I’m learning new things about you already.”
Greg furrowed his brow slightly as he studied her expression intently. “Is your purpose to gain insights into me?” he asked.
“I think that could be one of the side benefits, but it’s not the main reason. Jessie wants to learn Hebrew, and already knows some as you’ve started teaching her. Zackary has an interest in learning too, and I would like to allow it. I think he could only benefit from whatever he might learn. I would like to be supportive of both of them, and also to understand as a parent what they are learning. And since as you have pointed out, Christians do occasionally learn Hebrew … knowing the language is not the same as being or practicing Judaism, I see this as an area where we could be in alignment as a family. So, I would like to know a little bit. Learn some, then decide if it’s something I would like to do,” Susan explained. “As for my faith … I really don’t see how it could harm my faith. Do you?”
Greg hesitated. “You are correct that the instructors may introduce bias,” Greg cautioned. “They will interpret the passages according to their own understanding.”
“If I run into difficulty in that respect, I will most likely consult with someone from my own faith for assistance in understanding the difference,” Susan assured him. “Who knows, maybe I’ll even write a letter to John like I said at dinner. He’s worked with you on things like this. I suspect he’d be a good resource, and he does respond to emails.”
Greg continued to study her, still clearly concerned, but not saying anything.
“Greg, I’m not about to try to convert to Judaism, if that’s what you are worried about,” Susan assured him.
“Are you certain? During our trip to the Bay Area, you did share with me your beliefs concerning the deity of Jesus,” he reminded her.
“Yes I did. But I believe everything else Christians teach about who He is, what He did, His place in heaven now,” Susan told him. “I still say He is the key to the covenant between God and Gentiles. Nothing I learn by learning to read and understand Hebrew is going to change that. You may rest assured that will continue to be a point in theology on which we will continue to disagree, only perhaps after I learn, we can then disagree in two languages.”
Greg smiled a wry smile.
“I don’t suppose I can argue with that,” he relented.
“You could try, but I wouldn’t advise it,” she said. “Come on. Let’s go to bed. You do have to get up early tomorrow.”
“In a moment,” Greg told her.
Susan arched an expectant brow.
“You prayed with me tonight,” Greg said.
“Yes.”
“You started your period?”
“Yes,” Susan confirmed.
“When?”
“Just this evening. My cycles are just about back to the normal thirty days.”
“You never did ovulate this month,” Greg observed.
“I usually don’t,” Susan reminded him.
Greg nodded as they climbed into bed. She’d told him this many, many times; but it was only now that he was seeing the evidence for himself, that he was beginning to accept that she might be correct. It was not, he insisted to himself that he doubted she believed what she told him, only that he’d never heard of a condition like this before and wasn’t entirely confident before that she might be right.
“Good night, Susan.”
“Good night, Greg,” she said and she turned out the light.
c
Saturday morning did come early at the Abernathy’s house. Following their family discussion on Hebrew and religion the night before, Susan was completely unsurprised when Zackary appeared at the breakfast table holding the yarmulke he’d been given once before in his hands and asking if he could go with Greg and Jessie to the local synagogue for services.
“You can,” Susan told him. “But I’m still going to expect you to go to church tomorrow with me too.”
“You don’t make Jessie go with you when she goes,” Zackary objected.
“You’re right, I don’t. But I have made an effort to raise you as a Christian, so until you decide otherwise, I plan to continue that practice,”’ Susan told him.
“So what about Jess? Doesn’t she get to be a Christian too?” Zackary asked.
Susan smiled. “I would of course like her to be,” Susan answered honestly, “however I’m sure Greg would be pleased if she decided to follow Judaism. It’s sort of like you deciding whether to be Catholic or Protestant.”
“You mean because Dad’s Catholic,” Zackary realized. “That makes a difference, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” Susan said. “Parents who are religious, and even most who aren’t, usually raise their children to have similar beliefs to themselves. Greg and I both believe in God, so we’ve been raising Jessie to believe in that. We have differing ideas about Jesus however, and I think Jessie already knows that.”
Zackary looked questioningly at Jessie. “Do you?”
“Uh huh. Papa believes Jesus was a man.”
“Well yeah, of course. It’s not like he’s a girl,” Zackary said.
Jessie frowned. “Mama doesn’t think Jesus is a girl. Mama thinks Jesus is the son of God.”
“Oh,” Zackary said. He thought about that for a little while then he said, “I think so too.”
“Then, may I ask why you would like to attend at the synagogue with me today?” Greg asked.
“You mean I’m not supposed to if I think that?” Zackary asked.
“You would be welcomed as a visitor, certainly,” Greg said. “However if your beliefs are in alignment with the church, I wondered why you might wish to.”
“I want to hear the Hebrew again,” Zackary said. “The last time I went, there was this prayer book which had English and Hebrew in it right next to each other. Does this synagogue have books like that too?”
“It does,” Greg told him.
“The first time, I heard it, and we used that, it was just confusing, but maybe now it will make more sense,” Zackary explained.
“That does make a certain amount of sense,” Susan told her husband.
“It does,” Greg agreed. “Alright Zackary, if that is your reasoning, I will support your request to attend with me. And I see you’ve got your yarmulke.”
Zackary nodded. “You said I’m supposed to wear it because of the custom thing, right?”
“Yes,” Greg agreed. “Honoring each other’s customs is also something on which your mother and I agree.”
“Would Dad agree?” Zackary asked Susan.
“I’m not sure your dad would agree to you attending at a synagogue, if he knew,” Susan told him. “But he would agree with going along with the idea of honoring the traditions of different cultures when you encounter them.”
“You don’t believe Michael would approve of Zackary coming with me?” Greg asked Susan in surprise. He hadn’t expected she would allow it if that were the case.
“No, I don’t think so, Greg. He would worry you were trying to turn him against me or against Christian beliefs or some such thing,” Susan explained.
“That’s not the reason I’m going Mom, and Greg isn’t making me,” Zackary said.
“Which is the reason I’m allowing it,” Susan told him. “But you should know your dad isn’t going to allow it, if he ever finds out.”
“We don’t have to tell him, do we?” Zackary asked with a frown.
Susan considered the question. “I hadn’t intended to Zackary, though if he were to ask or the topic were to come up, I would tell him. But so far, he hasn’t asked me much about what you are doing when we talk. He only wants to know if you’re healthy, if you’re happy with your new school, and if you’re getting in trouble as often. You’re not, so he’s been content with the situation so far.”
“You are not deliberately keeping it a secret?” Greg checked.
“No, I’m not. I see it as an opportunity for Zackary to learn more about a related but different faith, that’s all,” Susan said.
“Do you also see it that way for Jessie?” Greg asked curiously.
“No. She’s been with us both since she was a baby. Zackary hasn’t. To me, that makes a difference. Also she’s ours, Zackary isn’t … not exactly,” Susan said.
“I see what you mean,” Greg assured her. “There are the complications on Michael’s preferences to consider in Zackary’s situation.”
“Would that make a difference, Mom?” Zackary asked curiously.
Susan exchanged a look with Greg.
“I think it probably would, if you’d been living with us all these years the way Jessie has … instead of your dad,” Susan said.
Zackary frowned. “I thought she came to live with you the same time as Julie, Aaron, and Jake came to visit, last December.”
“She did,” Susan confirmed. “But Jessie also lived with us for a while when she was younger.”
“Before I lived with Nana,” Jessie said.
“I thought you lived with your Nana after your mom died,” Zackary said.
“No, I lived with the fat lady, then Mama Sue and Papa after mommy died; then I went to live with Nana; then with Mama and Papa again,” Jessie recited for him.
“How old were you when you lived with Mom the first time?” Zackary asked her.
Jessie shrugged and looked at Susan.
“She was two and a half. She stayed with us until she was almost four,” Susan told him.
“I didn’t know that,” Zackary said staring at Jessie again. “Mom really is like your mom then, isn’t she?”
“Uh huh,” Jessie agreed.
Greg glanced at the clock as everyone talked. As fascinating as this breakfast time conversation had been, they had services to attend and it was time to go. Taking the hint, Susan cut their conversation short, sent both children to brush their teeth while she gathered their swimming things. They were all in the car a short time later, and Greg dropped Susan off at the Starbucks near the synagogue while they rest of them attended services.
Susan sipped her coffee in the bustling coffee house at one of their smallest tables. It had become her custom to spend Saturday mornings here while Greg was attending services, though normally she had one or both of the children with her. This time however, she was alone. She’d had enough foresight to bring a book along with her to read, though once Susan bought her coffee and was settled in her chair, she found she lacked the concentration necessary in order to read it. The family’s conversations last night and again this morning had given her a lot to think about, including her own, sudden desire to learn Hebrew. And so, Susan sat deep in thought as she blew across the too hot coffee.
‘Where did that come from?’ she wondered to herself. ‘I’ve never had any particular interest in learning Hebrew before … why now?’
Of course she knew the answer to that. The answer was she was interested because both Zackary and Jessie were interested. Her protective instincts as their mother had been aroused when they asked, and she’d jumped at the chance to learn too. To be absolutely certain she knew what they were being taught and exposed to as part of the lessons Greg proposed. She didn’t like the idea of them learning information she couldn’t read for herself or understand, and yet the request to learn a foreign language wasn’t something she could rationally object to, but especially when learning that skill had the potential to make them much better students of the Bible. Rather the logical way to address her inner concerns was to decide to learn too. The idea to turn the decision to learn Hebrew into a family activity, something they could bond over rather than something that had the potential to tear them apart had come to her out of the blue, and as she sat searching her inner self, Susan couldn’t help wondering where that had come from too.
Susan frowned. Had that idea truly come from some inner part of her? Or was it possible it had another source? These were the questions that were causing her to examine the state of her own faith. Was it whole? Thriving? All it should be? Was she truly strong enough to be able to support Greg and the children in their faith if they did this thing … even if it didn’t precisely align with hers? It was a difficult question.
Of course, there was a part of her that feared if the children did learn Hebrew, they were more likely to adopt Jewish teachings than if they didn’t. Susan knew it was there. She also knew that one of her reasons for wanting to learn too was to guard against that … because if she knew Hebrew too, then she could be absolutely certain that a foreign language was all they were learning … and not by default, learning to be Jewish too. Learning the Bible she didn’t have a problem with; learning to be Jewish, something that neither of the children was ethnically was another matter entirely. Susan knew eventually it was an issue she and Greg would have to confront, but she suspected for now allowing Jessie to more formally pursue her Hebrew language education would satisfy Greg’s desire for her to attend Hebrew school … at least for the time being … maybe even long enough for her to be old enough to decide for herself … which was all Susan really wanted.
And so Susan sat meditating on the issues of family vs. religion vs. faith, wondering if agreeing on two out of three of those would be enough for them to raise the two young people in their care into moral, responsible, faithful adults who walked with God and were willing to listen for what He would have them to do with their lives. It was a difficult task, one that would have been much harder if she’d not lost in this life, the child she and Greg shared. Sharing Jessie was hard enough, and Susan couldn’t help worrying about the eventual fate of their little girl’s soul, but if they’d had a child together that lived … wouldn’t that particular task have become suddenly harder? Susan couldn’t help wondering about that and she was still sitting there thinking about it when Greg came into the coffee shop looking for her.
“There you are,” he said as he found her sitting in the corner and staring at her now cold coffee.
“Oh, hi. How were services?” Susan asked.
“Very good. I believe everyone got something out of it. How are you?” Greg asked curiously. “You haven’t touched your coffee.”
“Oh … well it was too hot when I first sat down,” Susan said vaguely.
“It isn’t any more,” Greg pointed out.
Susan nodded and took a sip, frowning when she discovered it was now cold.
“I don’t suppose I was paying much attention to the coffee,” she admitted.
“So it would seem. Are you ready to go?” Greg asked. “We do need to have the children to their swimming lessons soon.”
“Yes of course. And I suppose we should feed them lunch first?” Susan asked.
“I think it’s too late. They wouldn’t have enough time to safely digest their food before going into the swimming pool,” Greg told her. “We were late getting here and it took me a while to find you.”
Susan looked at him in surprise then looked hastily around for a clock. It was a full hour later than it usually was when services ended and she went to pick him up. She hadn’t made the effort to keep track of the time since Greg was driving and so hadn’t noticed that the morning had passed so rapidly.
“Sorry,” she said sheepishly getting up and throwing what was left of her coffee away. “I guess I lost track of the time. Let’s go.”
Greg nodded and together they made their way back out to the car and headed towards the YMCA.
“Can we at least have a milk before we have to swim?” Zackary pleaded when Greg announced they wouldn’t have time to eat. “I’m hungry.”
“We could stop by McDonalds,” Susan said. “That would be fast, and a milk should hold him until we can go for proper lunch after.”
“If you wish,” Greg told them.
And he went through the McDonalds drive-through, though Susan could tell he wasn’t entirely in favor of the idea. Still it was quick, it temporarily satisfied Zackary’s stomach, and still allowed them to arrive in time for the children to change into their suits and be out on the pool deck in time for lessons to start.
As was their custom, while the children were swimming, Greg and Susan initially watched for a while then took a walk on their own through the park.
“Susan, what were you thinking about at the coffee house today when I walked in?” Greg asked.
“What makes you think I was thinking about anything in particular?” Susan asked.
“The expression on your face, the cup of cold coffee, the fact that you completely lost track of the time; all those things suggest you were preoccupied,” he told her.
Susan nodded. “You’re right, I was.”
“Care to tell me about it?” he asked.
“I’m not sure I’m ready to, to be honest … I mean part of me wants to talk to you about it … I feel desperate to talk to you about it … but I also understand that it’s a topic were our values are not aligned, and I find that fact troubling,” she told him.
“You are not thinking of faith,” Greg guessed.
“No,” Susan said. “Religion. Specifically, Jessie’s religion.”
“Jessie’s religion?” Greg asked.
Susan nodded.
“I didn’t know we’d made a decision about how we should focus Jessie’s religious education,” he said cautiously.
“In this lifetime, we haven’t. But I’ve been praying and meditating and thinking about this quite a bit these past few days,” Susan shared.
“And has it brought you any clarity about how to handle that question?” Greg asked.
“Not exactly. What it’s done has been bring back some of my dreams … our dreams, about the lives when we’ve had Jessie before. I think in two of those lives she was raised as Christian,” Susan told him.
“That is true,” Greg agreed, “in those lifetime where she grew up without me. But she has also been raised Jewish at least one time, following your death, when I was Harald.”
“I think there would have been two … you were raising her that way during our first life, until the time of the fire,” Susan said.
Greg arched his brow. “I believe if I remember correctly, she was being raised much as she is now. She prayed with both of us, heard Bible stories from both of us, knew of Jesus and believed in God. Due to our family situation, I don’t believe either of us ever took her to services and she never came of age in either faith, so it may have been premature to say what she would have been.”
Susan furrowed her brow. “What becomes of a soul that is inconsistent between lifetimes in the way that they worship and what they believe?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I’m wondering if it is our inconsistency which is keeping her here,” Susan said. “We are essentially repeating in this lifetime what we have always done, and I’m wondering if it has created in Jessie a soul divided within herself.”
“Jessie is responsible for her own soul, Susan,” Greg reminded her.
“Yes, but in each life time where we know which faith she adopted as an adult, it was the one we raised her in. Our influence was key; each time. Given that, I don’t think we can discount that factor now,” Susan said.
“I don’t intend to, but I believe we are headed in the right direction. I spoke to Rabbi Brickner after services today … it is the reason we were delayed,” Greg said.
“About?” Susan prompted.
“About the idea of family Bible reading and Hebrew lessons. He was surprised to hear you were in favor of the idea … I’m still a bit surprised myself to be honest, but if you are and haven’t changed your mind, he suggested he might come by the house one night this coming week to talk to us about it. I think he has an idea for how we might go about it,” Greg said.
“How we might go about it?” Susan questioned. “Do you mean he has some different idea than the kids simply attending some form of Hebrew school and my looking for an adult alternative to that same sort of education?”
“Your emphasis was to be on learning the language, was it not?” Greg asked. “Not to be educated in the prayers and rituals of Judaism. Those are also part of the typical Hebrew school curriculum.”
“Oh, I see. So I suppose what we are looking for is a bit different,” Susan said.
“Yes,” Greg agreed. “Would you agree to meet with him?”
“I don’t suppose it would hurt to talk to him about it,” Susan agreed, “though you do remember I’m starting work this week?”
“I remember. Which nights will you be away?”
“Monday and Tuesday; I should be home after dinner time on Wednesday.”
“I will try to arrange it for Thursday evening if at all possible,” Greg told her.
“Will that work for you and your weekly producer meetings?” Susan asked.
“They’ve been suspended until after the holiday,” Greg told her.
“And when do you fly out to New York?” Susan asked. “Don’t you have to be there next weekend?”
“I do. I’ll take the red eye late on Friday evening, sleep on the plane, and arrive Saturday morning. I can do the New York press junkets that morning, appear for the premier that evening, and arrive back home mid-day on Sunday,” he explained.
“What a horrible schedule!” Susan told him. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go earlier and make it a bit easier on yourself?”
“I would if you were going with me, but as it is I’d rather go, do what I need to do and come home,” Greg told her. “After all, with the holiday the following Thursday, I really would rather be home to help you prepare.”
Susan took a moment to take that in. “You do realize that makes Thursday the only night of this coming week when we’re both going to be home?” she asked. “Are we sure we want to use it speaking to the rabbi instead of spending family time on our own?”
Greg arched his brow. “I see what you mean. Our time together will be extremely limited during between now and the Sunday when I get home. I could instead propose he come see us tomorrow afternoon … or on the Monday evening just prior to Thanksgiving. Do you see one as better than the other?” Greg asked.
“Not really. Monday’s longer than I wanted to wait, but tomorrow afternoon may seem rushed for the rabbi. Why don’t you call him, offer those two days, and see what works best for him?” Susan suggested.
“I will do that,” Greg agreed. “Right now however, I believe it is nearly time for the finish of swimming lessons and for lunch.”
“Yes it is, and I expect Zackary will feel he’s been starved.”
“Quite probably,” Greg said. “I remember feeling that way continually at that age. Shall we go?”
Susan’s prediction proved to be correct. Zackary was certain he was going to faint if he wasn’t fed, IMMEDIATELY. With that in mind they headed towards the closest café, one they’d never tried before for a late lunch. They ordered and Greg made his call to the rabbi while they were waiting for their meal.
“Are you certain tomorrow isn’t too soon?” Greg double-checked as he muted the phone.
“Tomorrow would be fine, depending on the time,” Susan said.
“He’s suggesting mid-afternoon, about two. Were you planning a Sunday supper tomorrow?” Greg asked.
“I could. Do you think he’d like to join us?” Susan wondered. “We could eat in the dining room, you know sort of break it in before Thanksgiving.”
Greg relayed Susan’s invitation to the rabbi and shortly after hung up the phone.
“Tomorrow at two it is,” Greg said as their food arrived, Susan said the blessing and they all started to eat.
“What’s happening tomorrow at two?” Zackary asked curiously.
“Rabbi Brickner is coming by our house to talk to us,” Greg said.
“All of us?” Zackary asked, “Or only you guys?”
“Initially just us,” Greg replied, “however he will also want to get to know Jessie and you. He wishes to understand how our family functions.”
“Our family?” Zackary asked doubtfully.
“The four of us,” Greg clarified.
Zackary turned Susan looking perplexed. “Mom, are we a family? Without Matt and Dad?”
“We are because it is us four who live together right now,” Susan explained. “Matt and your dad are still family in the relative sense, but since they don’t live with us they wouldn’t be part of our family in the way Greg means.”
“Perhaps I should have said household?” Greg suggested.
“Family’s okay,” Zackary said tentatively. “But isn’t it mostly you, Mom, and Jessie who are a family? Not me? Aren’t I just sort of extra?”
Greg studied the boy who looked so much like Susan, who had the eyes he could remember in the infant he’d taken to be named on his eighth day of life during their first life, the boy whom the sages had named Zachariah, who died along with the rest of the family the very next night. How could he possibly explain the complex nature of the relationship between them and the possible impact it had on them today?
“You are not extra,” Greg assured him. He started to say something more, when Susan shot him a warning look. “He needs to know,” Greg told her.
“I need to know what?” Zackary asked eagerly.
“We are not that sure of our facts,” Susan cautioned.
“What facts? Mom, what are you guys talking about? Is it something that makes us a family?” Zackary asked.
Susan glanced at Greg who was watching her intently, his expression filled with meaning.
“I tell you what, Zack. I won’t tell you exactly what we’re talking about, but tonight at bedtime, I will tell you a very special story. That might help you to understand … or it might not. But it’s the best I can do,” Susan told him.
“Is it a true story, Mom?” Zackary asked curiously.
“It may be … or it may all be a fantasy. There is no way to be certain, but I will tell you the story we think about when it comes to you. Will that help?” Susan asked.
“Okay,” Zackary agreed tentatively.
“But in the meantime, we need to figure out what we’re going to serve the rabbi for Sunday supper tomorrow,” Susan said.
Zackary made a face. “Does it have to be chicken? You always do chicken when you say it’s going to be a Sunday supper.”
“Is there something you’d rather have?” Susan asked curiously.
“How about enchiladas?” Zackary suggested. “You used to make killer enchiladas … a long time ago. Matt and I used to talk about them all the time, but you haven’t made them since I’ve been here.”
“You still remember that?” Susan said in surprise.
“Yeah. It’s the best thing you make,” Zackary declared. “Can you make those?”
“Well, I’d need a slow cooker Zack and I don’t have one anymore,” Susan told him.
“I know. Dad does,” Zackary said. “He never uses it though.”
“That doesn’t exactly help us though, does it?” Susan asked rhetorically. “Your dad and the slow cooker are both in Seattle.”
“We could buy you one, Susan,” Greg offered.
“Today?” Susan asked doubtfully. “The meat has to cook over night.”
“Perhaps. What kind of meat do you put in your enchiladas?”
“Chicken,” Susan said. “Also lots of different kinds of herbs, peppers, chilies and onions.”
“It sounds very good,” Greg told her. “So I presume you would need to grocery shop too?”
“Yes,” Susan said. “I’d have to anyways, no matter what we have.”
“Then I propose after lunch, we go buy a slow cooker and the ingredients you need,” Greg suggested.
Susan regarded him doubtfully. “Okay,” she said when she was certain he was serious.
“Yeah!” Zackary exclaimed. “So where do you go to buy a slow cooker, Mom?”
“At a home goods store I would presume?” Greg suggested.
“Or I think Target would have them,” Susan said.
“Are we finished?” Greg asked as he surveyed the remains of their meal.
“I am,” Zackary said.
“Me too Papa,” Jessie answered.
“Susan?” Greg inquired.
“Almost. Give me a moment to put together a grocery list while I finish my sandwich, then we can go,” she requested.
Greg leaned back in his chair patiently waiting the ten extra minutes it took for Susan to feel ready.
As a family they did the errands they needed to do before going home. Once they were there, Susan carefully unpacked her new slow cooker, washed it, and began preparing the ingredients to put into it while Greg unpacked the groceries and helped to put them away. He watched her attentively as she put the chicken meat into the pot and turned it on, followed by various types of seasonings. Next she spent the next hour cleaning and chopping herbs, onions, peppers, and chilies and adding them to the pot. The aroma of the cooking chicken was already starting to fill the kitchen by the time she was finished. Susan stirred the pot once everything had been added, then washed put the utensils away.
“Now what?” Greg asked curiously as she took off her apron.
“Now we let everything in the pot cook over night, possibly longer,” Susan said. “I’ll stir it every now and then to ensure nothing is sticking to the bottom and to blend the flavors. Then when the chicken starts to fall apart, I’ll shred it and mix it more thoroughly.”
“That sounds relatively easy,” he commented.
“It is,” Susan assured him. “I’ll put the enchiladas together tomorrow about an hour before the rabbi comes, then put them in the oven to bake.”
“What do you put into them aside from the meat mixture?” Greg asked.
“Inside I put the meat, fresh cilantro and Jack cheese wrapped in a tortilla, outside goes sauce and more cheese. It is one of the better things I make. I don’t know why I never thought to make it for you before,” Susan said.
“Perhaps as you say it was due to the lack of a slow cooker,” Greg suggested.
“Maybe,” Susan said checking the clock with a frown. “I don’t know how it got to be so late already! This day really flew by. It will be sunset in another hour and I’ve done absolutely nothing about tonight’s dinner.”
“Perhaps it isn’t necessary, Susan. You’ve already put quite enough effort into tomorrow’s dinner with no time to rest today at all. And we did have a very late lunch. Perhaps a snack will suffice for those who are hungry,” Greg suggested just as Zackary came into the kitchen drawn by the smell of the chicken.
He paused in the doorway drawing in a deep breath. “This batch smells good, Mom. Did you remember how to do it?” Zackary asked.
“I think so,” Susan told him. “We were just talking about dinner for tonight. Are you hungry? Are you going to want anything?”
“There’s a movie on TV I want to watch. Can we just have popcorn and juice instead of dinner?” Zackary suggested.
Susan exchanged a look with Greg.
“Sounds good to me,” Greg told her. “I’ll even make the popcorn. We can say end of Sabbath prayers over that just as well as we can a full supper.”
“Thank you,” Susan told him. “What movie are you going to watch, Zack?”
There was some discussion about the movie that had been selected, and eventually they came up with a choice that would be enjoyed by everyone. They said their prayers, ate their popcorn, and watched the moving as a family, after which, Susan encouraged the children to both get ready for bed.
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