“You’re gonna get it,” Lola said. “I can see you’re itching for it, and before the night’s over you’re gonna get it like you never got it before. I’m telling you, girl, you got a rotten evil temper and I’m gonna knock it out of you if I have to break every bone in your body.”
Bella’s lips were trembling. She started toward the doorway leading out of the kitchen. Lola caught her arm, pulled her away from the doorway, then shoved her back to the sink.
“You ain’t finished here yet,” Lola said. “You gotta do them knives and forks. And when he’s through eating, you’ll have his plates to do.”
Bella seemed to be choking. “Me do his plates? I gotta clean up after him?”
“You heard me,” Lola said.
Kerrigan squirmed in his chair. “I can wash my own dishes.”
“I said she’s gonna wash them,” Lola said loudly and firmly.
Kerrigan shrugged. He knew there was no use arguing with Lola.
She heaped his plate with the beef stew and the rice and the squash. She put six slices of bread on the plate, poured coffee into a thick cup, then backed away from the table and watched him tackle the meal.
Kerrigan ate slowly, chewing thoroughy, savoring each mouthful. As he sat there enjoying the meal, the kitchen was quiet except for the busy noise of his knife and fork on the plate. He completely forgot the presence of Bella, whose eyes alternated between raging glares at him and wary glances at her mother.