“I don’t want to hurt her feelings.”
“Then just eat it,” Dad says, shrugging. “It’s not gonna kill you.”
I groan, dragging my hands down my face.
“Not sure what other option you got,” Mom adds.
Dad leans against the counter, grinning. “You’re getting married, Son. Don’t start the marriage keeping quiet. You’ll just end up mad at yourself down the road.”
“But I feel bad,” I admit. “She was so proud of herself.”
Mom brightens suddenly. “What if I have her up sometime? Teach her how to make your favorites.”
Relief hits. “That’s genius.”
Dad smirks. “And when she burns that too?”
Mom elbows him hard in the ribs. “Don’t.”
I raise a brow. “You wanna bet?”
They both laugh again like I’m joking. I’m not.
Chapter 7
Megan
I step into the big house and find Maureen at the counter with her sleeves rolled up and her hair clipped back. She looks completely in her element. Addison’s by the sink, her hair up too, towel over her shoulder.
“There you are,” Maureen says warmly, pulling me in for a hug before I can even set my purse down. “Ready to cook?”
“Yes!” I exclaim, glancing at the flour dusted on the counter and the neat line of ingredients she’s set out.
“I’m gonna show you two of Mason’s favorites,” she explains with a smile, handing me a recipe card like we’re about to start a test I didn’t study for. “Barbecue chicken sandwiches and homemade Hamburger Helper.”
I blink at the counter, then back at her. “Barbecue?”
“It’s so easy, trust me,” Addison adds, giving me a small side-hug too.
Maureen laughs. “It’ll be great. Wash up and we’ll get it started.”
I wash my hands at the sink, trying not to look as intimidated as I feel. Maureen moves around the kitchen like she’s filming a cooking show—ingredients lined up neatly, measuring cups stacked, everything in its place.
Addison ties an apron around her waist, grinning at me. “You ready for this? Mom doesn’t play around in the kitchen.”
“That’s comforting,” I mumble, drying my hands.
Maureen claps her hands together, bright and cheerful. “Alright, first up, the barbecue sauce. None of that bottled stuff—we’re doing this homemade.”
“Homemade?” I repeat, smiling nervously. “Like…from scratch?”
She laughs. “Sweetheart, it’s easier than you think. Ketchup, brown sugar, vinegar, Worcestershire, some spices. Stir it all together and let it simmer. Once you’ve had the real thing, you’ll never go back to store-bought.”
Addison smirks, leaning closer. “If Mason’s anything like Wesley, he’llthank you laterfor going the extra mile for him.” She winks.
“Addison!” Maureen laughs, shaking her head.
“What?” Addison shrugs, all innocent. “Food’s the way to every man’s heart.”
