He’s not looking at his father.
I’m not looking at his father.
We’re both looking at the bottle.
Salty Marvin’s Fire In Your Hole And Yes We Mean That Hole Sauce.
Hot sauce always has the best names.
He pops the lid and shakes the thick red liquid onto his eggs.
I reach for the bottle too, but he covers my hand with his. “You sure, Goldie? There’s no going back.”
“Afraid I’ll find out it’s mislabeled and it’s actually ketchup?”
He grins.
I grin back.
I love this.
I truly do.
I love messing around with Fletcher.
The fun’s been missing in my life.
That’s what he’s given me back.
I love my friends. I love my job. I love my clients.
But I haven’t had this much fun in ages.
I tug on the bottle.
“Your funeral,” he mutters.
I’m smiling even broader when I shake the sauce onto my eggs.
Will I regret this?
Possibly.
But there’s cheese right there if it’s truly too spicy.
And coffee.
The coffee might help.
He forks up a bite, but doesn’t eat it until I’m ready to eat my bite too.
Andholy fucking cheese balls.
That’s hot.
That’shothot.
They bottled blue flames to make this hot sauce.
