She’s not crying. She’s laughing.
Relief flooded over Austin, and he joined her, letting all of the stress of the past forty minutes dissipate.
Cheyenne would have been in tears over the burned cookies and spent the rest of the evening in her room decompressing. But Debbie kept insisting on fixing his family dinner, despite the stress of her first foster child going missing, burned cookies, and nearly starting her kitchen on fire. This woman was persistent.
Still giggling, Debbie continued wiping at the oil.
“I think you’re just spreading it,” he said with a chuckle.
She sat back on her heels. “You’re right.” Using her middle fingers as a spindle, she unrolled the paper towels.
Austin guided them until they spread across the entire spill, then he grabbed the trash can again.
Together, with the occasional giggle, they cleaned up the remaining oil.
“How long do you think it will take me to get the greasy residue off the floor?”
“Maybe we should let the kids come in and skate around in their socks?”
Debbie threw back her head and laughed again. When she finally sobered, she said, “You know what? I give up.” She stood and pulled her cell phone from her back pocket.
By the time he returned the trash can to the pantry, Debbie was speaking into her phone. “Hi Susan, I need to place an order to be delivered please. I’ll pay extra if you put a rush on it.”
Debbie turned toward him. “What do you want on your hamburger? And would the boys rather have chicken fingers or hamburgers?”
Debbie is ordering hamburgers?
He didn’t blame her for giving up on fixing dinner. At this rate, she’d burn the house down. His amusement fled. Cheyenne always DoorDashed dinner when she didn’t feel like cooking. Whether they could afford it or not. But to his knowledge, the little town of Providence didn’t have DoorDash.
“We can just fix sandwiches. You don’t need to order out.” Although sandwiches didn’t sound at all appetizing since that’s what he had for lunch every day.
She covered the end of her phone and grimaced. “I don’t have enough bread. I didn’t get to the grocery store on Saturday because I went shopping with Jessie and Savannah. Please just let me order dinner, and don’t make a big deal of it.” She gave him a pleading expression.
He stared at her for a long moment, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He didn’t want her buying his family dinner, but she didn’t need a fight on top of everything else tonight. He forced himself to relax then nodded. “Fine.”
“So, what do you want on your hamburger?” She grinned, and his heart skipped a beat. It seemed to do that every time she smiled at him.
His mouth watered. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a juicy bacon cheeseburger. And his boys were going to be ecstatic about chicken fingers and French fries. He rarely took his family out for fast food, let alone to a sit-down restaurant, because he simply couldn’t afford those kinds of extravagances.
As Debbie rattled off a credit card number a few minutes later, he couldn’t help making comparisons between her and his ex-wife. Cheyenne grew up with money and Debbie married into it, but they both spent it very lavishly. They both had huge houses and liked expensive perfume and clothing. Debbie may have revamped her wardrobe, but she still wore designer jeans.
One thing that surprised him, however, was the absence of servants. He’d expected to see at least one person who was hired help here at the house this evening. He hadn’t anticipated her actually cooking for his family herself.
Austin had just entered the kitchen again twenty minutes later, after making sure the toy room and other rooms were straightened up, when the doorbell rang. He watched Debbie pull a hundred-dollar bill from her purse before heading to the door.
His eyes widened as he followed her to help carry in the food. Well, there was another difference between Debbie and Cheyenne. Debbie was much more generous than Cheyenne.
The blond teenage boy’s eyes lit up when Debbie handed him the hundred-dollar bill. “Are you sure, Miss Debbie?”
“Absolutely, Eli. Thank you so much.” Debbie smiled, and the boy returned it.
“Anytime!” Eli stepped back. “Seriously, anytime you need any kind of delivery, let me know.”
“I will, Eli. Thanks again.”
Debbie closed the door, and as they made their way to the kitchen, Austin asked, “Do you always tip that generously?”
Rosy spots colored her cheeks. “Not usually that generously.”
