“I can back it up,” I brag. I’d like to enjoy the look on her face, but her mother is staring holes through me. I have a feeling she doesn’t like what she sees either.
“Well, let’s see what you can do,” she says, but it’s clear she’s already expecting me to disappoint her. Izzy rolls her eyes, so maybe her mother’s attitude isn’t just because she doesn’t like me.
“Lead the way, ladies.”
Beau kisses BB and then grabs my arm, and we follow Izzy and her mom into what I imagine is the kitchen. Beau makes sure that there’s a little distance between us and my woman so that we can talk. I’m grateful—for more reasons than just having the chance to see the way Izzy’s ass looks in those jeans she’s wearing.
“I don’t think Izzy’s mom is a fan.”
“Are you running scared already, C?”
“Hitching up with BB has turned you into a smartass, Beau.”
She laughs, making Izzy and her mother look back at us. “Beau is doubting my culinary abilities,” I explain.
“I hate to break it to you, but we kind of all do. If you fail, you’re going to eat half of the casserole all by yourself.”
“I’ll do it, but could someone explain why we’re doing it?” I ask just as we get into the kitchen.
“Aunt Beth is one of the best people I know. She’d give anything to see those she loves happy. It makes her happy to take care of her family. But …” Izzy stops, looking at her mom.
“What my daughter isn’t saying is that as wonderful as my sister is, she sucks at cooking.”
“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” I mutter, taking the lid off the portable casserole dish.
“She once made a tuna casserole that landed Diego and Carlos in the hospital for three nights,” Katie says.
“What happened?”
“She thought since she didn’t have to cook the tuna, she’d do fish and make a sushi casserole.”
I look at her. “Well, okay, that doesn’t sound great, but?—”
“She used catfish because Skull and Hunter had gone fishing the day before.”
“Oh shit,” I whisper, with a low whistle. I know of all types of fish, and catfish can be very dangerous because of the bacteria and things that they carry.
“Exactly.”
“Can you fix it?” Izzy whispers somewhere near my ear. She’s leaning on the counter next to me, and it takes everything I have to fight the way my cock wants to respond to her soft voice.
“I think so, although after the catfish story, you guys kind of have me scared to try it to see what it needs.”
“Well, if it helps, Aunt Beth refuses to even look at catfish again,” she replies helpfully.
“This one is all chicken. She did add egg noodles and cream of chicken soup,” Katie replies and I nod.
I pull out a couple of drawers, grabbing a spoon when I find the silverware. I take a small taste. It’s not bad. It’s not good. It’s bland. It could be tofu. There’s really no taste, and I’m not even sure how that is possible.
“Is there a spice rack or something here? I need to see what I have to work with,” I mutter.
“Here ya go,” Katie answers, reaching into the cabinet above her head.
I sift through the spices and get to work. It won’t be the perfect fix, but it will be edible. I end up putting the seasoning in, and then after sifting through the cabinets quickly, I find some Better Than Bullion. I microwave it with some water—add a little seasoning to it—and then add a sleeve of crushed Ritz crackers to some butter and spread it over the top of the casserole. Finally, I put it in with the oven on broil just to brown it. When I get it out, I stir it so that the crackers are at the bottom. It should soak up the liquids a little more, plus hide the fact that I added them in the first place. I don’t want Beth to realize I’ve changed her casserole. When it’s done, I can’t say it’s pretty, but it should taste decent. When Beth put the cream of chicken in, I’m thinking she added two cans full of water as well. There was absolutely no taste to it.
“Are you finished?” Izzy asks as I put the casserole dish on the table.
“Yep. Which one of you is going to be brave enough to test it?” I ask.
