The doorbell rang as I was putting on a shirt and pants. When I walked out into the open kitchen and living area, Grace was unpacking several paper sacks. I reached for one to help her.
“I have it,” she insisted, grabbing the bag from me.
I pulled the handle back toward me. “You think I don’t know how to cook.”
“I know you don’t know how to cook,” she retorted. “Your fridge is filled with the saddest little prepared meals in Manhattan.”
“I’ll have you know those are prepared by five-star chefs. And what are you making, Ms. Cooking Expert?” I said, peeking into the nearest bag. “Holy shit, that’s a lot of potatoes.”
“They wouldn’t let me order less than five pounds!” she wailed. “We’re going to be eating potatoes forever!”
The thought of having her in my house, us in the kitchen together going through five pounds’ worth of potatoes, honestly didn’t seem like a bad idea.
“I’ll help you peel them,” I said suddenly.
“Have you ever peeled a potato in your life?”
“Yes,” I lied.It can’t be that difficult.
She sighed. “I guess the better question is, do you even own a potato peeler?”
“Of course,” I said confidently.
Grace motioned grandly to the kitchen. “Then where is it?”
“Uhhh.” I chose a drawer at random. It was filled with…
“Candle-making supplies?”
“Oh for the love of—” Grace slammed the cabinet drawer shut. “Gran!”
25
Grace
“Ijust don’t see what you have against candles!”
“Not in Chris’s apartment,” I said in a low voice, clearing out the drawer. Then I shoved all of the candle-making supplies in her arms.
“It’s like living with the candle Grinch!” Gran complained, stomping away to her bedroom.
I dumped the bag of potatoes out in the sink and turned on the water.
“I think I found it!” Chris said happily.
He displayed a series of four kitchen utensils: a butter knife, a spiralizer, a pasta scoop, and a slotted metal spatula.
“I’m pretty sure one of these is the potato peeler.”
“You’re zero for four.”
“Shoot.” He studied them. “Really? Are you sure you couldn’t just use this thingy,” he said, picking up the butter knife, “to peel the potatoes?”
“Not if you want to be here all day, and I have several wedding events booked.”
I opened up a drawer in the island that was about the size of my apartment bedroom.
“Found it!” I handed him the potato peeler.
