Mark caught a glimpse of Austin’s face, filled with sorrow. Before he could ask what was wrong, Austin sucked in a deep breath and finished filling the bowl, which he handed to Mark. “Put this on the table, if you would, while I get the bread and butter out.” He was smiling, so he’d obviously pushed whatever had been troubling him away—at least for the moment.
Mark did as he’d been asked, going back to get the coffee pot. By the time he’d filled their cups, Austin was setting the bread and butter on the table. “Am I missing anything?” he asked as they sat down.
“Not that I can see,” Mark replied. He tasted the stew, then told Austin it was very good, because it was.
“I could say it’s an old family recipe,” Austin said. “I’d be lying. It’s called get some stew meat, potatoes, and whateve
