Chapter 7

Joe was happy to tag along on my shopping trip. We actually talked, mostly about cooking. He was now grilling nearly once a week, which meant one night a week where he wasn’t doing any gaming. I questioned him on that point, and he quickly explained that he still played a little on those nights, but not nearly as much. After all, his gaming was the way he spent time with his girlfriend, and there was little his mom or I could do to keep him away from her, even if we wanted to. I was impressed by his taking on the responsibility in the kitchen and told him so.

We stopped by a liquor store that focused on wine. It wasn’t a stuffy place, and they carried a lot of the usual selections of liquor and beer, but their wine selection was supposedly the best in the city. Additionally, they actually had a sommelier on staff to answer questions for customers who weren’t sure of what to get or were just looking to learn more in general.

He was an older guy with short, spiky gray hair, a neatly trimmed beard, and wire-rimmed glasses. Since I wasn’t a big wine connoisseur, I asked him for some recommendations. He started talking about pairing wines with food, and Joe perked up at that. I knew the basics—red with beef, white with fish and chicken—but this guy was talking about the fruitiness and the tannins and how that would match various beef preparations better than others, or which wines were good for just sipping with fruit and cheese.

“But some cheeses are hard to match,” the sommelier said. “Particularly strong cheeses.”

Joe nodded. “Like Roquefort.” I gave Joe a surprised look, caught off guard at his suggestion.

The sommelier smiled easily. “Exactly.”

“Or aged cheddar,” Joe added, his confidence was clearly evident in the way he looked at the older man.

“He’s quick,” the sommelier said to me with a smirk. Then to Joe, “When you’re older, why don’t you come by for some tastings?”

Joe nodded at that, almost solemnly, like it was a promise.

The sommelier turned back to me. “So, let me show you some good gift wines in your price range.”

We headed off to do just that.

After I bought the suggested wine, Joe and I headed over to Ace Hardware. When he had shown me the grill, I realized there were a couple of things he could use.

“Do you have a grill basket for vegetables?” I asked as we headed into the store.

He shook his head.

“You want one?”

He grinned. “Yeah.”

“Cool. Anything else? Tongs? A good spatula?”

He shook his head. “Jerry got me those.”

I was a little annoyed by that, but I pushed it aside. It was pretty stupid of me to assume he hadn’t gotten those tools already. Especially when Jerry worked in a restaurant. It didn’t matter who got Joe the stuff he needed, just that he had it. Besides, I just wanted to browse and see if there was anything new I might want for my own grill.

We talked about grilling, as well as cooking in general as we shopped. He’d started experimenting with sauces, and I could sense why. Every master griller I knew had his own barbecue sauce that he swore by. Joe knew the basic ingredients but was trying to find his own “signature flavor.”

I could only imagine how that was going. I wasn’t a sauce guy. At least not on the grill. I didn’t like having to fight the drippings and flare-ups. Especially if you’re using anything with sugar. It just burned to a blackened crisp in no time if you weren’t babysitting the thing constantly. Aside from the basic BBQ sauce brushed over grilled chicken, I preferred rubs or just basic seasonings. I was of the mindset that letting the meat’s flavor be the forefront flavor was the best. Not a sauce.

Still, Joe wanted to look at the various sauces available. Stores like Ace Hardware only had packaged sauces and rubs, and none of them looked all that good to me. So, after we finished there, we headed to the grocery store to pick out some spices that he could use to make his own. I offered to help, but he just shook his head. He was proving to have the knack for flavor and the diligence to use it. I was still a bit leery of potential experiments. No one ever got it perfect on the first try.

I forced a smile at that idea for Joe’s benefit. Though I had to admit, I was looking forward to what he came up with.

Since it was late afternoon when we’d finally finished off my mental shopping list, we headed back home. Well, Mandy’s home now. It was still weird pulling into the driveway like I had for so many years, since this was no longer my home. As weird as it was, I was here for Amber and Joe and no other reason beyond that. Staying here got me more time with the kids, which was the point. After Joe and I shed our clothes once we were inside, we headed into the kitchen.

We walked into the kitchen just in time to catch Mandy pulling some chicken breasts out of the fridge. I glanced at the stained cookbook she had open on the counter and suppressed a shudder.

“You know,” I said, “I’d be happy to cook.” It was the best way to guarantee we’d have something good.

She looked at me and put her hands on her hips and frowned at the thinly veiled insinuation about her lack of talent with cooking.

“What were you making?” I asked.

“Chicken and mushrooms,” she said, matter-of-factly.

I bit back saying anything. There weren’t any fresh mushrooms in the fridge, I knew that. I glanced around until I spotted a can on the counter. I fought to keep the disgust off my face. Unsuccessfully, because Mandy huffed.

“Fine,” she said sharply. “You can cook.” She stormed off towards the living room.

Joe had witnessed the entire thing. He looked at me with a “oh well” look on his face. I shrugged, and he smirked.

“We bought some fresh spinach,” I called out towards where Mandy was not lounging on the couch in the other room. “How about chicken Florentine?”

I looked back to see what Joe thought of that idea and saw that he was grinning. Both of my kids liked fresh spinach, raw or cooked. That’s what made the difference—fresh ingredients.

“You wanna help?” I asked him.

He nodded quickly. “Yup.”

“Then get out the spinach and start washing it.”

Dinner tasted amazing. The chicken was tender and juicy, and the spinach matched it perfectly. Joe had suggested adding some rice, and Mandy still had a big plastic container in the pantry. I was pleasantly surprised that it wasn’t instant rice or something like that, but then maybe Joe or Amber had made her buy it.

When we’d finished off all the chicken and our plates were cleared from the table, Joe suggested dessert. I made sure to not look at Amber while I eagerly agreed to his suggestion. Joe pulled out a tub of ice cream from the freezer and then grabbed four bowls and spoons. I couldn’t help it. I glanced in Amber’s direction to see her giving me a disapproving look when Joe handed me my bowl.

We took our time finishing off the sweet treat and when everyone’s bowls were scraped clean, I sat back and made a point to pat my belly and sigh happily, looking right at Amber as I did so. She rolled her eyes, but I saw the edges of her mouth twitch upwards, even though she tried to hide it.