peace_inthe_violence

"So why'd you enlist?" Andy asked, taking another beignet and getting comfortable at the kitchen table. The boys would be down soon enough, and she hadn't had much time to get to know their newest member; maybe breakfast and some conversation with her would do them both good.

"I say it's because of him." She replied, focused on what she was doing now, "And it is, a little, but it was also so my brother wouldn't. Losing him would have killed my mom." She shook her head, "Losing me won't be much better, but he's a good kid, wouldn't hurt a fly, never would have made it through basic, and if he did he wouldn't have come back."

Turning the fresh beignets over into the dish of sugar, shaking them carefully and dusting them with more, "I wasn't going to let that happen."

Andy listened, attentive and quiet while Nile spoke. "Not going to make it any easier on her to lose you instead of him," she said softly. "You're still her child, and it's still going to hurt."

She shrugged. "Ask Book. It'll never get easier to lose someone the way we do--all of us can tell you that. But losing your children is harder." Andy shook her head, but it was good Nile had the instinct. It was likely going to come in handy among the rest of them.

"It'll still hurt." She agreed with a nod, "But me she'll recover from, him she wouldn't. She knows he's a gentle soul, for whatever that's worth, but he's also all she's got left of my dad."

Realizing belatedly that sounded off, she added: "He's a junior. Named after our father."

"Are you two the only ones?" she asked, listening and attentive. "Only kids?"

She couldn't remember what her family looked like, but she remembered having them. She remembered losing them, and knowing how much that hurt.

She nodded, "Yeah. They always talked about having a third, but by the time I was ten I figured it wasn't going to happen. And then dad was killed in action the next year."

It had been a bad year, and the one after hadn't been much better, but they'd pulled through, and somewhere between that and Nile's own enlistment, things had leveled out again. Not quite the same as they had been, but still for the better.

"So you lost him early," she said. "But you managed. You think your brother will manage as well?"

"He'll get over it, eventually." She replied, though after a moment added: "He's only a couple years younger than me, not like he's actually a kid anymore. He'll be alright. He'll be able to help get mom through it."

That much she was sure of, it had taken both of them to get her through the first time, but Nile was sure he'd be able to do it alone this time.

Andy let out a breath quietly. "I don't actually remember much of my family," she said softly. "It's been too long. I don't remember what my mother looked ike, or my sisters. I don't remember their names, even though I've tried to look."

She shrugs. "You're lucky, people keep better records now. They write things down like that."

"I'm starting to think that might not always be a good thing." She replied, starting in on the next batch, because even with conversation she still needed something to do in those early pre-dawn hours when everything started feeling too heavy and too close.

It was also part of why she changed the subject, nodding to Andy's plate, "If you all want to make sure there's space in the fridge for a big-ass mixing bowl for twenty four hours, I can make traditional yeast ones sometime. They get a lot puffier, but not as soft, basically the same otherwise."

Andy chuckled. "I'll make sure there's room," she said. "But the boys will be pissed if we eat all these before they get up and they have to wait two days for any more."

Especially Booker. He loved anything bread-related. "Only thing like this I ever learned was choux pastry, once." And only then because a fundamental step was beating the snot out of it.

"Well if they want some maybe they shouldn't sleep in." She replied, as if she and Andy were the ones who were up at a reasonable hour and everyone else was sleeping late.

"And I can do beignets, spice cake, and cookies that look like those fancy decorated ones, but that you won't break a tooth on trying to eat them."

"What are we breaking our teeth on, sorellina? And why are we doing it this early in the morning?"

The voice came from the man in the doorway, bare chested and squinting in the bright lights of the kitchen. He reached up to rub the sleep from his eyes, then made his way into the room proper, his bare feet making little padding sounds on the tile.

"Are those beignets? Please tell me this is not what we are talking about." Because he was already reaching for one of the cinnamon sugar ones.

She blinked up at the new arrival, "They are, and no, if you chip a tooth on one of these there's something wrong." She shrugged, turning to continue the next batch, adding: "or you found one of the rocks I put in the batter." more quietly.

She shook her head then, realizing that this time of morning probably wasn't the best time for jokes like that, "No rocks, promise, and this early in the morning because I couldn't sleep. Happens sometimes. I can be quieter next time."

Her joke actually earned her a chuckle and a mischievous smirk as the man bit into the fried dough. His mirth was quickly forgotten in favor of making a pleased humming sound as he chewed, claiming a chair that was within easy reaching distance to the plates.

"You didn't wake me, sorellina. She did." He gestured at Andy with his half eaten beignet. "I'm pretty certain she danced on my bladder when she got up." He made a face at the older woman, though it was quickly gone in favor of shoving the last half of his treat into his mouth.

"I smelled the food, though, so I came to investigate. This is delicious. When did you start the dough? Did I miss it in the fridge yesterday?"

She considered, just for a moment, teasing about having missed a mixing bowl in the fridge, but decided against it, just shaking her head again, smiling a little, "Didn't miss anything, baking soda dough instead of yeast, so totally a chemical reaction instead of having to wait for microorganisms to do their thing."

A nod towards Andy in turn, "We were just talking about making sure I've got room for a mixing bowl in the fridge to do actual yeast ones sometime, though. I just don't usually have that kind of patience."

Malta

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