“And someone else can chop the onions.

My fingers aren’t cooperating.”

Lucas washed his hands, fetched the cutting board, and began chopping while I set ingredients where she could reach them.

Marian sat on a tall kitchen stool and gave directions like the foreman of a remarkably patient construction crew.

“Not that much salt, Lucas.”

He held the shaker over the pot.

“How much is too much?”

“About three shakes ago.”