SOUTH BEND — It's dinner, and Tomala Waddell Allen and her grandson Jay'vion are in the kitchen cooking.

Allen pulls a pan filled with breaded, baked pork chops out of the oven. She, Jay'vion and her husband, Marshall Allen, don't eat fried food. She turns toward the counter and asks Jay'vion to get his stool so that he can stand on it and help her with the vegetables.

“What kind of vegetables do you want?” Allen said to her grandson. “You want corn or green beans?”

“Corn,” Jay'vion replied, to the surprise of no one in the kitchen — a choice between corn and green beans is no choice at all to a kindergartner.

Allen is the grandma, so cooking becomes a teaching moment.

“What color is corn?” she said. “Yellow,” Jay'vion replied.

Jay'vion grabs a few cans of corn and a pot, and of course he wants to be the one who works the can opener. But grandma believes that a division of labor is a wiser and safer course.

“I open, you pour,” she said. “How 'bout that?”

It's a ritual that plays out in thousands of South Bend kitchens — kids helping parents and grandparents make dinner. After dinner, Jay'vion will do the things that kindergartners do. Maybe he'll go outside and play catch with his grandma or play with some of the neighborhood kids.

Allen and her husband try to have those family dinners and give her grandson a chance to unwind by watching his favorite show, “Mighty Morphin Power Rangers,” or playing with some of his toys.

Jay'vion's father, Jeremiah, was shot while walking home from work on March 26, 2015. The attack left him paralyzed from the waist down. Police say the shooting took place during a robbery attempt. Waddell was unable to identify his assailants.

Five months later, Jay'vion's mother, Shasta Horston, 25, was shot and killed inside her house on the corner of Yukon Street and Portage Avenue.

Allen said her grandson was in the house when his mother was shot. He was 4 at the time, and he stayed in the dark house for eight hours before concerned relatives convinced him to open the door.

Those relatives called police when they saw Horston's body in her bedroom. After the shooting, Jay'vion moved into his grandmother's house on Haney Avenue.

Everybody in the family immediately worried about Jay'vion. He has seen things that no child should see.

Christmas came a few months after his mother's death, and so many people gave Jay'vion gifts for Christmas and his birthday on New Year's Day.

“If Jay'vion asks for anything, we'll give it to him if it's within reason,” Allen recalled. “But it was not enough.”

Jay'vion often lashed out at his grandmother. Finally, his father said one day, “'Mama, don't you understand that he's angry with you because he doesn't want but one thing, and the one thing he wants you can't give him,' ” Allen said. “And that's his mom.”

“And finally I had to tell Jay'vion that I can't bring your mommy back.”

The two tragedies have Allen being a mother to her grandson while also helping her son. Jay'vion is at Lincoln Primary Center. He likes football and soccer and, like his dad, he's a boxing fan.

The Allens wake Jay'vion by 7:30 a.m. on school days, and breakfast comes quickly after so he can arrive at Lincoln Primary by 8 a.m.

Allen picks Jay'vion up from school at 2:20 p.m. What happens from there depends on whether Jay'vion has a therapy session. Jay'Vion's mood also determines what happens. Sometimes, he will play with his toys or watch TV or play with the neighborhood kids, usually under grandma's watchful eye. Sometimes he just wants to be alone. And then there are the rough days — the angry and emotional days.

Allen herself has not had an easy life. She spent years addicted to drugs and alcohol and saw her children sent to live with relatives. After recovery, Allen went the 12-step route, mended relationships with siblings and her children and earned a college degree. She got a job at Life Treatment Center and got married. Her husband, Marshall, is an avid golfer and Allen figured that she would be going on golf vacations when she wasn't working or studying. That was before her life got turned upside down.

Jeremiah lived with her for a few months after being discharged from the hospital. Allen administered the 13 to 15 prescriptions that Jeremiah took and shuttled him to his physical therapy and doctor's appointments.

Just when Jeremiah began to stabilize physically, the other shooting happened. Allen and her husband took Jay'vion in, and both often found the physical and emotional pain unbearable.

At first, Jeremiah thought he wouldn't be able to help his son.

“He said, ‘I can't take care of him because I'm in this chair,' ” Allen said. “And Jay'vion was like, ‘Yes, you can, Daddy. I will help you.' ”

Allen knows her family is not alone. Overcoming addiction and working in counseling gives Allen an understanding of the importance of reaching out but also looking within. For relief, she will catch the occasional movie, get her nails done, got to therapy sessions or attend a 12-step meeting.

What she really wants, though, is justice — or at least the patience to wait for it. Police say they are still investigating the case and have not named any suspects.