“Jake made cocoa vine, Stacy! And I made a salad,” Ryan says proudly as he strides back into the kitchen.
Stacy gently grabs his shoulders, stopping him from entering.
“It’s French,” I say with a knowing smile. “I’m guessing the smell is supposed to be exotic.”
“Exotic is one thing, but I think burnt food is the same across all cultures,” she offers with a smirk.
Gulping, I bend down and pull open the stove as smoke rolls out in thick black waves.
I groan and flip on the vent over the stove while she rushes around the apartment, pulling open windows so the smoke can escape.
Twenty minutes later, the smoke alarms are silent and we can finally see each other again, though the smell of smoke still lingers.
“Is it ruined?” Ryan asks, disappointment etched on his face.
I look into the black, burnt crusty bits in the pan and nod, my heart falling. There’s no way we can eat this. I turn to Stacy, expecting her to be preparing to leave after seeing this failure of mine, but she’s still grinning from ear-to-ear, trying not to laugh.
“This isn’t funny,” I grump, but I can already feel a smirk tugging at my lips.
It’s impossible not to smile when Stacy smiles at you.
“It’s kinda funny.” She winks. “When I was Ryan’s age, I tried to make grilled cheese on my own for the first time and nearly burnt down our house,” muses the beautiful brunette.
“What?” cries Ryan, “but you’re such a good cook!”
She nods and grins at him. “Because I took the time to learn. Nobody starts out doing something perfect the first time. Right, Jake?” she says, wiggling her eyebrows at me and gesturing her head toward my distraught nephew.
“That’s right, kid. When I first started playing football, I could barely catch the ball at all. It took me a long, long time and a ton of practice to get where I am today.”
“Wow . . .” Ryan muses, his brow crinkling thoughtfully.
“Practice makes perfect, so how about we practice together?” Stacy offers, pushing up both of her sleeves and walking around to the kitchen. “We’ve still got your salad, Ryan, so all we need is something tasty to go with it.”
“Grilled cheese!” Ryan cries, clapping his hands together. “Just like you made the first time you were cooking, Stacy!”
Stacy turns toward me, grinning. “Does that sound good?”
Anything prepared by Stacy sounds amazing, and between the three of us, hopefully we can keep the apartment in one piece without the fire department showing up.
“That sounds perfect,” I answer.
“Then let’s get to work. Together,” she says, her eyes locked on mine.
I swallow hard and nod in agreement, wondering if she can hear my heart beating out of my chest.
Chapter 16
Stacy
“So now we add butter to the frying pan . . .” I demonstrate, tossing a thick chunk of golden fat right into the brand-new pan that Jake lightly rocks back and forth on the burner.
The delicious fragrance of melting butter instantly makes all three of us sigh.
Jake’s eyebrows are furrowed in concentration while he watches me like he’s trapped in a cooking show competition with the clock running down instead of his own home. I’ve never seen him look so focused before, but Ryan is loving every second of it.
Grilled cheese may not be coq au vin, but it’s going to be delicious, especially after I help them whip up some super quick and easy tomato soup as well. We’ve already blended up fresh tomatoes, garlic and herbs and started it simmering on another burner.
“Did I do the salad right?” Ryan asks, taking my hand and dragging me back to the kitchen counter where shredded lettuce and grape tomatoes sit in a big bowl.
“Oh, yum, that looks like a perfect salad!” I tell him with a big grin.
Ryan is glowing. He bounces around the kitchen, chattering nonstop. His little face is almost bursting with happiness. I’ve seen the change in him in the classroom this week as well. He’s starting to come out of his shell a little, choosing to interact a bit more with the other kids and even frequently raising his hand to answer questions.
The changes are practically night and day. Jake has made some really tremendous positive changes for the boy too.
The apartment looks all but brand new. It’s still just as clean as it’d been when I was last here, but some of the furniture has been replaced, making it look much more inviting and homier. And Ryan was right about the big bookcase, fully stocked with books for kids and adults alike. He made sure I saw it before we attempted dinner again.
Jake even apparently traded in his huge television for a slightly smaller one so that the bookcase would have more room. It made my heart swell to see how much he’d taken my words to heart.
I glance over my shoulder, checking on Jake who’s now resting two pieces of bread in the skillet while he’s hard at work shredding cheese. The sandwiches are going to be extra delicious because Jake has just about every type of cheese under the sun in his fridge. He may have gone a little overboard, but in my opinion, one can never have too much cheese.
He catches me watching him and slowly smiles, taking in Ryan and I standing together. The way he’s looking at me makes me blush and I focus back on Ryan, who’s rambling on about how Jake told him to add spinach to the salad because it has iron and vitamins in it that will make him super strong.
“Stacy?” the boy says as he grabs a grape tomato and rolls it between his fingers until it squishes and splatters red juice on his palm. He inspects it for a moment before swallowing the smooshed red fruit whole. “Are you having fun?”
I lean closer, hands on my knees. “The most fun,” I promise him with a smile.
I'm not just entertaining a little boy’s need for validation. I mean the words I'm saying. This past hour has been so much fun dancing around the kitchen and goofing off with both Ryan and Jake.
“Then can we do this every day?” he presses hopefully, his little eyes sparkling. “You and me and Uncle Jake? Can we cook like this all the time?”
The request is heart-meltingly sweet. I lower myself to his level, taking his small hands in mine. “You know you don’t have to use me as an excuse to cook with your uncle, right? You two can have just as much fun together as when I'm here. I bet you can even find cooking classes to take together.”
“Really?” he gasps, turning toward Jake who’s plating the sandwiches. “Can we?”
“You got it, kiddo. Tomorrow morning I’ll find us some to do together. But right now, let’s eat!”
Laughing, we grab our plates and load up with soup, sandwiches, and salad, and settle down around the new dining room table that Jake got to replace the gaming chairs.
“This is amazing,” I moan, closing my eyes as I savor the cheesy sandwiches.
The boys grunt in agreement and we eat in silence, too busy enjoying each other’s company and meals to speak.
When the food has been scarfed down, Ryan begins yawning even though I can tell he’s struggling to stay awake. His eyelids droop more and more until Jake has to all but prop him up so he doesn’t pass out in his tomato soup.