I decided with this book that I would start doing Tuesday Teasers and Sunday Snippets.  But Tuesday, I was still too out of it from my surgery.  So I'm breaking the rules a little bit, and I am posting this on Thursday.

This scene is greatly inspired by my relationship with my own grandparents.  Her name was Helen Elizabeth and his name was David Homer Lee.  I hope you enjoy it.

*This is unedited and subject to change.

“Memaw, can you pass me those ‘maters?” I ask.

Papa smiles.  “Good girl.  You know those make ya pretty.”

I can’t contain my laughter, “I thought that was carrots that made you pretty?”

He smirks and nods his head.  “Yes’um.  Those, too.  You must be eating lots of those.”

I smirk as I put my head down.  I can feel the blush coming over me.  “Maybe.”

Memaw chimes in, “It’s true, Alex.  You’re blossoming into a beautiful young lady.”

“Young lady sounds so old.”

“That’s what you are,” she chimes.

I shrug, “Yeah.  I guess so.”  I take a bite of my salmon patty and close my eyes as I savor the taste.  “Mmm.  This is so yummy.”

“Tell me it’s still your favorite?” Memaw asks.

I continue to chew, but cover my mouth with my napkin.  “Definitely still my favorite.  Only yours, though.  No one can make them like you.”  She beams.  It’s no secret she loves to hear her cooking is the best.  I look over to Papa, and his eyes are alight with humor.  “So Pop, are we going to the creek tomorrow to go fishing?”

“Already got the bait today.”  I get up from the table to get the mayonnaise.  Pop continues, “Ah, I should have gotten that out for you.  I forgot you’re like your mother and like mayonnaise on your tomatoes.”

I look back over my shoulder and wink.  They just put salt and pepper on theirs.  I put mayo.  I can’t help it.  “It sure beats putting mayo on your pears.  Talk about gross.”

“Hey, you don’t know what you’re missin’.  Pear salad is delicious.  In fact, I think Elizabeth will have to make you some of those tomorrow,” Papa teases.

“Ha, she can make them all day.  I’ll even help.  But I’m not eating a mayo filled pear.”

Papa takes a bite of the fried cornbread.  “Be nice or we’ll fix you some of that good ‘ole ham hock soup to go with it.”

I squint my eyes at him.  “You wouldn’t!” I pout.

He grabs his belly as he erupts into laughter.  “Of course, I wouldn’t.”

Ham Hock Soup has to be the most disgusting combination of food ever.  It’s diced ham, stewed tomatoes, and macaroni.  If you want to torture me, then you’ll feed me that.  I don’t know what makes people find that appetizing.  Just the smell and sight of it rolls my stomach.