Love's Meta

Steam escaped the kitchen setting off the fire alarm. Utensils and kitchenware flew on the floor in a panic as glasses fogged from the steam. Soon, the alarms stopped as a pillow fanned the alarm and Mother’s voice finally could be heard. “Meta! What in the world are you cooking? You woke up your Baba!”

“Sorry Mama!” Meta said as she gracefully picked up her fallen tools, despite struggling to see them past her fogged glasses. “Just trying something new.”

“Sarah?” Meta’s Grandma called out. “What that?”

Sarah shouted something back in Russian then looked at Meta who was now turning down the stove. She stopped fanning the fire detector and looked at the pot Meta was using to boil her concoction.

“Tell her it’s Gefilte fish, Mama” Meta said with a smile that could warm your heart more than any kitchen could, as she continued to mix the solution.

“Meta, that’s not how you prepare Gefilte fish.”

“Well, if you’re not supposed to boil it, how are you supposed to prepare it?”

Sarah grabbed the jar of Gefilte fish, pulled one out, and took a bite. “That is how!” She said with her mouth still full.

“What amazing smell you discover, Vnuchka!” Sarah’s mother, Olga, said as she bent into the kitchen on her cane.

“Thanks Baba!” Meta said, cheerfully. Her tone could inspire whole armies and make any father proud!

“That not compliment, duratskiy.” Olga said, with a wooden face. “How you expect to impress nice wich Jewish boy when you can’t even cook fish?”

“Oh Mother!” Sarah laughed. “She’s still young and there’s no harm in trying something new.”

“Twenty not young!” Olga said. “And new not safe! That why we have tradition! I go find nice wich Jewish boy for her like I for you, my little Belka!”

Olga started to leave the kitchen and Sarah followed her. “Mother! Don’t- I-” Sarah said, then looks back at the beautiful Meta. Her blue eyes glowed through her glasses despite still being slightly fogged. “Don’t worry Meta, I’ll talk to her.” She said as she started to leave, but then turned one more time and mentioned, “I’m sure Mikel- I mean, Papa - would have loved to try your dish.” She then smiled and left the room.

Meta chuckled a bit as she heard the two talk in Russian in the living room. She couldn’t tell if they were angry or not. That’s just how they always talked to each other. She understood a few words and phrases here and there like, “father”, “it worked for you” and obvious ones like “Mikel” and “Sarah”. But she didn’t care what they decided, for she already had a boy in mind.

This is a story I’ve told countless times. One that I know in and out. One of seemingly true love. One between the beautiful and perfect, graceful and humble, awe inspiring Meta. And a boy. A boy who loves Meta…unfortunately.