"Chicken Marsala," Maya answered as she pulled the plate of skinned boneless chicken breasts, already defrosted, from the refrigerator and placed it on the counter before retrieving the package of butter. "Get the sherry and wine, and I'll get the mushrooms," Maya suggested. Today, they'd decided to do dinner instead of the traditional breakfast, a variation they did on occasion. Again, though, the menu was in homage to Lucille, their mom. "Oooh, this is going to be good," Jada said. For a few minutes, they silently performed delegated duties of pounding the chicken and slicing the basketful of mushrooms after which Maya mixed a bowl of flour, salt, black pepper, and oregano. Once those duties were done, she placed the butter in the large iron skillet she pulled from a cabinet, placed it on the oven range before going back to pounding the chicken. She was on auto-mode today, her mind in two places.
