This is a scheduled post using the word FORGIVENESS for inspiration.
For those with the time or inclination: Feel free to join in!
The prompt next week is AMELIORATE.
“The rhubarb is coming through.” Babs burst into the kitchen and dumped a muddy trug on the table. “I’ll pick some after lunch.” She threw her gloves on the draining board and began scrubbing her hands. “We could make some wine.”
“If you like.” Doris frowned and moved the colander of potatoes draining in the sink.
“Oops!” Babs laughed. “Sorry about that. But a drop of water never hurt anyone.” She reached for the towel. “You’ve done sausages, you star!”
“They’ll be cold by now. But if you could just clean that table, I’ll dish up.”
Babs grabbed the trug and plonked it in the laundry basket. Doris bit back her reprimand as Babs tucked a napkin into her shirt collar.
“You cook marvellous bangers.” She grinned through a mouthful of food. “Can’t think how I didn’t starve before I met you.”
Doris glanced at the photograph on the wall between the dresser and the fridge. A sweet face stared back at her. Babs’ mum. A woman who made it a holy mission to protect her daughter from pain, failure, and discomfort until the day she died.
“I’m sure you managed,” Doris murmured, spooning homemade tomato relish onto her plate.
“Not as well as I do now.” Babs laid down her cutlery. “You know how I was when we first met. But now…” Her voice trailed away.
“The food is still warm; would you credit it?” Doris chewed thoughtfully.
“Sorry,” Babs whispered. “I promise you; I do try.”
“Sometimes, I wonder if it’s another mother you want rather than a lover.”
“No, Dodo.” Babs stretched out a hand. “You are oxygen to me, but sometimes I get lightheaded and act like an idiot.”
Doris wrapped her fingers around Bab’s calloused palm. “If I am the air you breathe, then you are the blood in my veins.”
Babs blushed and attacked her food with gusto. “I’ll do the washing-up after we finish. And this afternoon, I’ll make a start on your herb garden idea.”
“What about the rhubarb?”
“It can wait until later, and I’ll make you a rhubarb crumble for tea.” Babs grinned at the thought.
“I’d like that,” Doris smiled.