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Description
7-Steps to Shakespeare

"I've missed being here, making cookies," said Iris, pounding graham crackers into crumbs.

Lena spilled a bag of walnuts onto the cutting board and began chopping them into even chunks. The chips were already measured out, sitting in on the counter: one cup of semi-sweet, one cup of white chocolate, and one cup of butterscotch. The Eagle Brand condensed milk was ready to be poured, and the coconut flakes were measured out on a paper towel.

"It's always so warm here, I mean," Iris continued, tipping a quarter-cup of melted butter into a ceramic mixing bowl.

"We haven't put the heat on, if that's what you're wondering," Lena said, eyes focused on the cutting board, "Gas is too expensive, so you'll have to make do with blankets and sweaters."

"Doesn't matter," Iris said. The bag of crushed graham cracker crumbs was opened and poured into the bowl as well. Using a spatula, she stirred the mixture together.

"Can't really afford much these days," Lena said, "And really, we have a fireplace, and your brothers would kill me if I let the Internet go."

Iris stuck her hands in the bowl, balling the warm crumbly butter together and moving it toward the glass pan. She sent a quick look toward her mother at the cutting board before directing her eyes toward the pan.

"Your father isn't helping much," said Lena.

Pressing the graham-butter ball into the pan and flattening its edges, Iris held out her hand. Setting aside the knife, Lena handed Iris the chips, who then poured the brown, white, and orange mixture over the graham cracker crust.

"I remember calling last week," Iris said at last, "It was a bit of a shock to hear him answer the phone."

"Did you remember to turn the oven on?" Lena scooped together the chopped walnuts into a cup as she spoke, handing it to Iris without looking at her.

"Mom, I watched you do it," Iris replied. "When did he move back in?"

"I used to believe senior moments were a myth," Lena said. "Not surprised that I'm wrong, happens all the time these days."

Iris poured the condensed milk on top of the walnuts, turning around to open the cabinet door and dump the empty canister into the trash. As she did so, her sweater rose up as she bent down, exposing dual lines of Oriental script on either side of her spine.

"Have you been taking your meds lately?" Iris said, her voice muffled as she rummaged through the cabinet.

Lena's grip on the knife tightened, her knuckles whitening as she stared at the exposed tattoo.

"You know, Sandy took her boyfriend back last month," said Iris, turning back around and reaching gingerly for the towel of coconut flakes. "After everything he did, she took him back. Of course, you know he screwed it up again, and now she says she's had it, that they're through, finished. It was just like all the other times."

Sprinkling the coconut along the top, Iris opened the oven and set the pan of confection inside, closing it gently. She turned around slowly, picking up a dishrag and beginning to wipe down the countertop.

"I finally said that I didn't believe her," she said, her gaze intent on the tile. "That she might as well buy a gun and shoot her own foot off. Good Lord - that really pissed her off.

"We yelled at each other for a bit, ended up getting drunk, yelled at each other again, got drunk some more, and I think I remember mentioning something about suckers and tazered wolves; next thing I know, I'm waking up with a bitch of a hangover and a tattoo of Sonnet 116 in Chinese scrawled up and down my back. I asked her about it later; Sandy said that we just needed something permanent to hold onto in case the other got weak."

"I didn't remember your sister being such a trouble magnet."

Iris giggled, shaking her head. "We've been trouble since birth, Mom." Reaching for a towel, she suddenly changed her mind and covered Lena's hand with her own. "And we're always going to be there if you need us."

Description
7-Steps to Shakespeare

"I've missed being here, making cookies," said Iris, pounding graham crackers into crumbs.

Lena spilled a bag of walnuts onto the cutting board and began chopping them into even chunks. The chips were already measured out, sitting in on the counter: one cup of semi-sweet, one cup of white chocolate, and one cup of butterscotch. The Eagle Brand condensed milk was ready to be poured, and the coconut flakes were measured out on a paper towel.

"It's always so warm here, I mean," Iris continued, tipping a quarter-cup of melted butter into a ceramic mixing bowl.

"We haven't put the heat on, if that's what you're wondering," Lena said, eyes focused on the cutting board, "Gas is too expensive, so you'll have to make do with blankets and sweaters."

"Doesn't matter," Iris said. The bag of crushed graham cracker crumbs was opened and poured into the bowl as well. Using a spatula, she stirred the mixture together.

"Can't really afford much these days," Lena said, "And really, we have a fireplace, and your brothers would kill me if I let the Internet go."

Iris stuck her hands in the bowl, balling the warm crumbly butter together and moving it toward the glass pan. She sent a quick look toward her mother at the cutting board before directing her eyes toward the pan.

"Your father isn't helping much," said Lena.

Pressing the graham-butter ball into the pan and flattening its edges, Iris held out her hand. Setting aside the knife, Lena handed Iris the chips, who then poured the brown, white, and orange mixture over the graham cracker crust.

"I remember calling last week," Iris said at last, "It was a bit of a shock to hear him answer the phone."

"Did you remember to turn the oven on?" Lena scooped together the chopped walnuts into a cup as she spoke, handing it to Iris without looking at her.

"Mom, I watched you do it," Iris replied. "When did he move back in?"

"I used to believe senior moments were a myth," Lena said. "Not surprised that I'm wrong, happens all the time these days."

Iris poured the condensed milk on top of the walnuts, turning around to open the cabinet door and dump the empty canister into the trash. As she did so, her sweater rose up as she bent down, exposing dual lines of Oriental script on either side of her spine.

"Have you been taking your meds lately?" Iris said, her voice muffled as she rummaged through the cabinet.

Lena's grip on the knife tightened, her knuckles whitening as she stared at the exposed tattoo.

"You know, Sandy took her boyfriend back last month," said Iris, turning back around and reaching gingerly for the towel of coconut flakes. "After everything he did, she took him back. Of course, you know he screwed it up again, and now she says she's had it, that they're through, finished. It was just like all the other times."

Sprinkling the coconut along the top, Iris opened the oven and set the pan of confection inside, closing it gently. She turned around slowly, picking up a dishrag and beginning to wipe down the countertop.

"I finally said that I didn't believe her," she said, her gaze intent on the tile. "That she might as well buy a gun and shoot her own foot off. Good Lord - that really pissed her off.

"We yelled at each other for a bit, ended up getting drunk, yelled at each other again, got drunk some more, and I think I remember mentioning something about suckers and tazered wolves; next thing I know, I'm waking up with a bitch of a hangover and a tattoo of Sonnet 116 in Chinese scrawled up and down my back. I asked her about it later; Sandy said that we just needed something permanent to hold onto in case the other got weak."

"I didn't remember your sister being such a trouble magnet."

Iris giggled, shaking her head. "We've been trouble since birth, Mom." Reaching for a towel, she suddenly changed her mind and covered Lena's hand with her own. "And we're always going to be there if you need us."