Tiana tied an apron around her waist. She was tired, but not too tired to cook. In fact, Tiana was never too tired to cook. She hummed to herself, just as she always did, while she chopped the celery, peppers, and okra.

Louis was sprawled in an armchair near the fire. As Tiana sang, he played along softly on his trumpet. Mama Odie tapped her foot in time, while her snake, Juju, bobbed his head sleepily.

Tiana had been making gumbo as long as she could remember. It came naturally to her. And it always reminded her of her father. He’d been the best cook Tiana had ever known. Right now, she could practically hear her father’s warm voice. She could almost feel his strong arms around her. Making gumbo was like being with him again. It made her feel loved.

“Look at you go,” Mama Odie said. “I never met a girl who loved feedin’ people the way you do.”

Tiana smiled. “That’s why I’ve got my restaurant,” she said. As she whisked the sauce, she wondered how Naveen was doing. Monday night was usually pretty quiet, but there was still a lot to do! I just hope he remembers to make the corn bread, she thought. The idea of Naveen baking corn bread was so strange and funny that Tiana laughed out loud.

Then she began to worry. What if he burned the corn bread? What if there was a fire in the kitchen? Tiana stopped stirring the gumbo. Her heartbeat sped up. What if the restaurant burned down? Or, what if the restaurant didn’t burn down, but the customers hated the food? That would almost be worse!

“Child!” Mama Odie said sharply. Tiana jumped and came back to herself. Mama Odie scowled at her. “Quit your frettin’ and bring me some dinner,” she said.

Tiana smiled. Mama Odie was pretty bossy, but she always knew what Tiana needed. And what she had needed just then was a distraction!

Tiana found a small stack of chipped, mismatched bowls on a shelf. She ladled gumbo into five of them and sat down to dinner with Mama Odie, Louis, Alphonse, and Juju. The snake flicked his tail at her in thanks.

For a few minutes, nobody spoke. They just sat together, eating and listening to the evening birds singing in the bayou.

Finally, Mama Odie pushed her chair back from the table. Her spoon rattled in her empty bowl.

“Not bad, not bad,” she said. “I must say, Tiana, it was mighty kind of you to come all this way to make us dinner.”

“But Mama Odie,” Tiana said, “why did you really ask me to come visit you?”

“Maybe I just wanted a good bowl of gumbo,” Mama Odie said. Her eyes were hidden behind the dark glasses she wore, but Tiana felt sure they’d be twinkling if she could see them.

“Somehow I doubt that,” Tiana said. She smiled. “I’ve had your gumbo, Mama Odie, and it’s even better than mine.”

“And that’s a fact!” Mama Odie said. She cackled loudly. Then the smile left her wrinkled face. “You’re right, Tiana. I had another reason to call you here. I need your help.”