Chapter Text
“I want to help make dinner tonight.”
The request startles the rest of the Jensens, who look up at Justin to find that he’s wearing an expectant smile on his face.
“I’m not like… hopeless in the kitchen or anything,” He offers when he’s not met with any sort of response, taking another bite of his cereal. “I’m going to need help though.”
Matt smiles, looking between his wife and Clay before turning back to Justin. “Did you have anything in mind for what you wanted to cook?”
Justin shakes his head. “I just want to help? I’ve cooked chicken dishes before, if that helps,” He shrugs. Lainie watches Justin sag his shoulders, leaning back in the chair. “Or I don’t have to, I don’t know.”
“We’ll make a chicken dish tonight, then,” Matt announces, clapping his hands together. “I have the perfect one in mind. One that isn’t too difficult, but we’ll have to go to the store and get some ingredients. Would you like to come with me?”
Justin nods, finishing off the rest of his cereal and putting his bowl in the dishwasher, announcing that he was going to go get changed.
“You’re not seriously going to let him cook, are you?” Clay asks, staring at his father.
Matt gives him a broad smile, standing up from the table to begin cleaning up the mess he made. “I’ll be supervising him the whole time. He’ll be fine, and if this is something he wants to do, I hardly think it’s something we need deny him of.”
Clay opens his mouth, then turns back to Lainie. “Mom, come on. You know as well as I do that Justin is going to fuck this up, right?”
Lainie pauses, chewing on her lip. “I think we need to be supportive of your brother, Clay,” She decides. “Dad will help him, and I’ll sit here and supervise the both of them.”
Clay rolls his eyes, placing his plate in the sink and retreating to the outhouse without another word.
—
Lainie brings her laptop into the kitchen, half reading through her emails and half listening to Matt and Justin review the recipe set out in front of them. Clay joins her, working on homework, but is more distracted by his brother and his eagerness to start measuring out ingredients and get the cutting boards out before they were ready.
Lainie had discreetly moved the first aid kit to the kitchen while Matt and Justin were at the store, sticking it in the storage cabinet, just in case. It’s not that she didn’t trust Justin — she had no reason not to — but he was reckless at times and not exactly the most graceful person, and so she thinks it can be forgiven if she doesn’t have much hope for him not to hurt himself.
Matt gives him the task of mixing the seasoning, which is easy enough. Justin has a smile on his face, shoulder to shoulder with Matt as they measure out the ingredients and place them into a larger bowl, carefully seasoning the chicken when ready.
Lainie is reminded of when Clay was younger and he’d pull up the chair next to Matt, pouring out the ingredients, laughing as his father would play games or let him be involved as often as possible. He was so young, so naive, and those dinner making dates were the highlights of Clay’s evenings when they would happen.
Justin is 17, so much different than Clay ever was or has been, but it feels like one of those moments from all those years ago. Justin had waited 17 years for the love and stability of a family, and she quickly realizes that she would sit through a thousand more social worker meetings and court hearings and custody agreement debates if it meant she got to give him a million more moments like these.
Matt tasks him with cutting the vegetables, leading him to the table and setting a cutting board in front of him. “I’m going to finish off the chicken and get that ready to go in the oven. Are you able to handle the vegetables?”
“Yeah,” Justin nods, grabbing the knife and beginning to cut down carefully, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth.
Clay watches, winces, and then stands up from the table. “As amusing as this was, I can't watch this disaster anymore. I’m going in the other room to read,” He announces, earning a shove from Justin on his way by as he leaves the room.
Lainie watches with a careful eye over the lip of her laptop, wincing when Justin mutters a curse under his breath, retracting his hand away quickly and shaking it in the air. “Justin…” She sighs, moving to stand up when Justin shakes his head frantically, setting the knife down.
“I’m almost done, it’s fine,” He says, holding his hand in his lap. “It’s just a nick, I’ll wash it. I’m fine, Lainie, we don’t have to worry about it. I can keep going.”
Lainie sighs, meeting her husband’s gaze as she stands up. “Please wash it, but let me look at it before you go back to chopping anything, okay?”
Justin obliges, walking to the kitchen sink and hissing as he cleans out the cut, holding his hand out for Lainie to inspect the damage as she takes his hand carefully.
“Is this a stop making dinner and go get some stitches type of cut, or can he continue on?” Matt asks over his shoulder, amused when he finds his wife digging through the first aid kit for the ointment.
“He can continue on after I put the ointment on,” She responds after a minute, holding Justin’s hand as she dabs the ointment generously across the cut, apologizing when Justin hisses and tenses up. “I’ll just put a bandaid over it and he’ll be good to go.”
Justin nods, watching as Lainie places the bandaid on before going to sit back down. “Thanks, Lainie,” He smiles, catching Clay’s curious expression from the other room. “You can come back and join us, you know. You would’ve actually seen what happened to me then.”
“And watch you cut your finger off? I’m good,” Clay retorts, a wry smile on his face. “Mom, do you have the takeout menu ready? Because I don’t have much hope for the rest of the dinner.”
“Clay,” Lainie warns, smiling at her son before moving back to her work.
Justin finishes chopping the vegetables. He goes faster with the knife, earns a warning from Lainie to take his time, and laughs when she falls for prank when he gasps and says that he cut himself again. “I’m fine, Lainie, I promise. It was a joke, it was a joke. I’m practically a professional.”
Lainie closes the lid to her laptop halfway, eyeing him. “I wouldn’t go that far. You’ve had your troubles today,” She smiles. “Is there any blood anywhere? On your fingers, on the cutting board. On the vegetables?”
“No blood anywhere,” He promises, standing up to bring the vegetables over to Matt, over exaggerating the fact that there’s no traces of blood. Matt nods in confirmation, taking the vegetables and spreading them out on a pan to roast them.
“Justin, can you grab another knife from the drawer and chop up the lettuce for the salad? I’ll wash the toppings and give them to you in a minute.”
Eager to help, Justin nods and walks over, pulling out the largest knife. Lainie stands up, trying to keep her cool, and rests her hand on Justin’s wrist. “What if you just set the table instead, honey?” She tries to redirect, chewing on her lip at the sight of the much larger knife in her son’s hand.
Justin turns to her with wide eyes, shaking his head. “I’m fine, Lainie! I’ll be super careful, I promise,” He argues. “Besides, Clay can set the table. He’s just spying on me hoping that I’ll ruin dinner.”
Lainie relents, nodding as she lets go of his wrist and watching as he moves back to the table to continue cutting things for the salad.
Clay rolls his eyes, pulling out silverware and plates, bringing them to the dining room before joining his mom back at the table. “If Justin’s going to ruin dinner, I guess I can stomach being front row for it.”
“Shut up,” Justin retorts, pointing the knife playfully at him. “This dinner is going to be the best dinner you’ve ever had.”
“Point the knife at your brother again and you’re done helping Matt with the rest of dinner,” Lainie reprimands, watching them. “Justin, you’re doing fine. Don’t ruin it by being reckless with an object that’s very sharp.”
“And Clay,” She continues, turning to her eldest. “Stop instigating your brother. He’s doing a nice thing, cooking dinner for us. You could learn a thing or two."
“Sorry,” Justin mutters, turning back to chopping up the salad and putting everything in their designated bowls. Clay follows suit, sinking back in the chair and watching Justin as he moves back to the stove to finish off the rest of dinner.
—
It doesn’t turn out to be a disaster.
For all the drama they went through in the preparations, dinner ends up being delicious. Justin sits proudly at his place at the table, relishing in the fact that Clay really can't think of anything mean to say.
“I hate to tell you this because it goes right to your head, but this dinner isn’t horrible, Justin,” Clay sighs, taking another bite. “Although Dad did most of the work.”
“Justin did more of the work than I did,” Matt smiles. “I merely supervised and made sure that everything made it into the oven.”
“I’m well on my way to being a professional chef. At least for this family,” Justin prides himself in, beaming.
Clay rolls his eyes, hiding his smile behind his fork. “Relax. You made one dish, that doesn’t deem you a professional.”
“It’s one more than you’ve made, so I think it kind of does,” Justin retorts. Lainie smiles at her boys, the playful jabs filling the conversation.
This is what they’ve missed out on, she thinks. They had loved having Clay as an only child, never really had second thoughts about their decisions to stop when they realized their careers would demand too much to have more than one, but they’re more than making up for it now. And it feels right to have another teenager in the house, albeit the worry that fills Lainie and Matt’s hearts for two boys now instead of one.
Clay was assigned dish duty, to which Justin mercifully helped, the two of them bunched together at the sink. Matt retreated to his office while Lainie worked in the living room listening to Clay get annoyed when Justin splashed water, and the lecture he gave when Justin insisted that the damp towel was fine, it was still getting the job done.
“You don’t need to keep reusing towels, Justin. We have plenty if they’re wet or dirty. Go get another from the cabinet,” Clay told him, kindly and completely different to their banter before. Lainie smiles, watches from the corner of her eye as Justin nods and retrieves a new towel, and reminds herself that they still have a ways to go.
Justin was adjusting well, but there was still so much he had to learn. Things that he had grown accustomed to in the environment he was brought up in.
She doesn’t hear the boys finish, but instead finds Clay walking by to go take a shower and Justin falling onto the sofa beside her, playing a game on his phone.
“You did a great job today, honey,” She smiles, turning from her work. “I’m proud of you.”
Justin glances up from his phone, beaming. “Thanks. It was actually good?”
“It was amazing,” She says. “If you’d ever like to cook again, I’m sure Matt would be more than willing to help you.”
“Yeah, okay,” Justin nods. “Maybe we could try something different next time.”
Lainie nods, the silence falling over them once more.
For all the difficult moments the family had been going through helping Justin transition to having a stable home and a loving family, this was a good day. They were happening more frequently, the glimpses of Justin’s personality and uninhabited need to feel useful around the house, and each day she felt more confident that they made the right decision to bring Justin into their home and lives.
There were always going to be difficult moments, adjustment periods they had yet to go through, but Lainie had confidence that it was only going to keep getting better from here.
She had a feeling the rest of her family felt the same way.