"Hi, Mom. What's for dinner?" Tracy asked, coming inside from the cold.
"It's one of my new recipes," Mom said mysteriously.
"What's in it? It sure smells good!" Tracy's winter jacket slid off her shoulders as she stomped snow off her boots.
"Never mind," Mom said with a sly grin. "You will have to wait until you get to the table."
Tracy hung her jacket and scarf on the pegs by the door. She rubbed her hands together to warm them. "Sure is chilly outside," she said. "I'll enjoy a hot meal."
"Did you have a good time at Cassidy's?" Mom asked. Tracy and Cassidy had known each other since first grade, and now that Cassidy had moved to this neighborhood, Tracy was often at her house.
"Yes. I love that she is just a few doors down!"
Tracy skipped up the stairs to her room. The aroma of Mom's meal wafted through the house. Tracy could detect the smell of garlic and onion. Tracy enjoyed cooking and wished Mom would have invited her to help. Sometimes, though, Mom kept her recipes secret.
In about 30 minutes, Mom called the family to supper. Tracy and her brother, Tim, stomachs rumbling, raced each other down the stairs. At each of their places was a bowl and small plate. Steaming rolls filled a basket, and a crock-pot of stew sat in the middle of the table.