“My first lesson?” she asked, her brows drawing back.
With everything prepped, I figured it would be more fun having her help rather than just sitting there watching while I did all the cooking. I even had something to keep her dress clean.
“Yep.” I went inside the pantry, pulling two aprons off the hook hanging by the door. “We have the classic ‘Kiss the Cook’orthe one that looks like you’re wearing a bikini. Which one would you like?” I asked, holding up an apron in each hand.
It didn’t take her long to decide. “Definitely the ‘Kiss the Cook.’ You in a bikini is too good to pass up.”
“I mean, you’ve already seen my competition pictures. Isn’t that pretty much the same thing?”
“Shhh.” She put her finger to my lips, hushing me. “Don’t ruin the fantasy for me.”
Once we put on our aprons and washed our hands, I laid out all the ingredients and had Tegan stand next to me at the counter.
“All right,” she said, rubbing her hands together. “What are we doing here?”
Her enthusiasm was adorable.
I had Tegan boil the noodles while I worked on the garlic bread. When that was done, I’d sauté the shrimp and mix everything together.
“So where did you learn to cook?” she asked, stirring the noodles.
Because the last thing I wanted to do tonight was slice my finger open, I finished cutting the garlic bread in half before I answered. “My dad taught me everything I know.”
“Huh.”
I cocked my head. “Is that surprising?”
“No. I mean, I just never saw my dad in the kitchen when I was growing up. My mom cooked all our meals.”
“My dad really enjoys cooking, and he likes to take whatever he can off my mom’s plate.”
She hummed. “So that’s what it’s like to be part of a healthy, functional family.”
If that’s what she considered a healthy and functional family, her bar was pretty low. To me, that was the bare minimum.
“You don’t have a good relationship with your family?” I asked.
“Things between me and my mom are great, but things with my brother and I have been weird since my dad passed away last year.”
Tegan had mentioned her mom and her brother, but she’d never talked about her dad.
“I’m sorry.” It wasn’t an empty apology, either. I meant it. Losing someone was hard. “I had no idea.”
She forced a smile and it made my heart ache for her. “It’s okay.”
“Were you guys close?” I asked. I hoped I wasn’t pushing too hard on a painful topic, but family was important to me, and I wanted to learn more about hers.
“We were. I really loved my dad, but it’s hard reconciling the version of him I knew with how other people perceived him. I think my mom and my brother carry a lot of resentment toward him. Sometimes I feel bad that I don’t.”
“I know it’s easier said than done, but you shouldn’t feel bad. It’s okay to love your dad even if he wasn’t always the perfect father or perfect husband. Being a parent and a partner is hard, and we’re all just living our life for the first time, figuring things out as we go.”
The noodles started to boil over, and Tegan jumped back from the stove.
“Shit, sorry,” she said, as I reached for the knob to turn off the heat.
“It’s all good,” I reassured her. I moved the pot to another burner, using a slotted spoon to fish out a noodle. After blowing on it a few times, I held the spoon out to Tegan, and she eagerly slurped up the noodle.
“Done?” I asked.
