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Her hands were busy with the knife and the serranos, so she nodded toward the appropriate doorway. “Through there and to the left. Door’s open, so it’s obvious.”
“Thanks.”
She went back to her chore, but even with her back turned she could tell the guy hadn’t left the kitchen. His presence was like a weight on her back. She looked over her shoulder. “Yeah?”
“I’m Zach.” He held out a hand.
“I’m full of serrano juice,” she pointed out, lifting her hands. “You don’t want that on your hands before you use the bathroom.”
He looked at his hand like he didn’t know whose it was. “Oh. Okay.”
“But I’m Lyra. Ben’s my dad.” Awkwardly, not sure how else to do a proper greeting, she sort of raised her elbow. Zach had no idea what she was doing, because obviously he didn’t. Who greeted somebody with their elbow?Dumb, Lyra.
“Lyra? That’s a really pretty name. Are your folks big readers?”
Her defensive instinct thus neutralized, Lyra grinned broadly. This guy was officially the first cute boy who’d ever known, or at least indicated he knew, where her mother had come up with her name. “My mom is. And yeah,The Golden Compassis one of our favorite books.” The whole series, really, but the first book was the best.
“It’s one of mine, too. I like the whole Dark Materials series, but I’ve readCompasslike a dozen times. Even now. I know it’s a kid book, but I think it’s deep as fuck.”
“It is. I love that. All kids’ books should be deep, I think. It helps you figure out what you think about shit.”
“Yeah ...” he said and faded out.
It got uncomfortable again until Lyra couldn’t deal and said, “Bathroom—through that door and just on the left.”
“Right. Thanks.” He followed her directions, and Lyra sloughed the awkwardness off with a sharp breath and a shake of her head. She went back to chopping.
She was making corn salad. This little impromptu cookout meant microwave-defrosted meat and whatever else she could throw together. Thankfully, she’d been to the market the day before. The corn salad had been intended for Michelle’s birthday party in a few days, but she had time to go out and replace the ingredients she’d use tonight before then.
The meat was ready-ish. Usually Pop marinated his grilling meats for at least a day, but with no time for that, Lyra had done a dry rub after she’d—very carefully—defrosted it all in the microwave. Now the corn salad; easy enough. What else? A house full of bikers meant a lot of food and alcohol would be consumed. Alcohol they had in abundance. The pantry, fridge and freezer were full, too, but Lyra liked to plan out meals in advance, and she was finding herself stymied, trying to mix one up on the fly.
She’d been expecting to order with DoorDash or something. When they worked a job as late as this one had gone, they usually got take-out or delivery from somewhere.
Grilled cow and corn salad was not enough to feed all these men. There wasn’t time to make bread—except cornbread, but with the corn salad, that was a lot of corn.
Tortillas? They’d be thematically consistent, but there wasn’t anything to put in them. You couldn’t wrap a T-bone in a tortilla.
Beans, maybe? There were plenty of beans—in the bag or in the can. But there wasn’t time to soften whole beans, and refried beans seemed ... blah. She had guests and wanted to make a nice meal, no matter how irritated she was at their presence.
She washed her hands at the sink and went to the fridge. Standing with both doors open, she peered inside and tried to think.
Zach came out of the bathroom and back into the kitchen. When he met her eyes, he smiled. “Hey again.”
“Long time no see.”
“You need help with anything?”
She cocked an eyebrow at him. “You want to fix dinner in here while all your friends are playing outside?”
Crossing his arms, he effected an exaggerated thoughtful pose. “Hmm. Let me think. Do I want to sit outside with a bunch of stinky dudes talking about the same old shit, or do I want to be in here, helping out a pretty girl? I don’t know. It’s a pretty tough call. ... Hmm. Decisions, decisions. ... You know what? I’m a helpful guy. I’m with you, if you want me.”
What a loaded statement. Lyra decided to let that drop where it landed and asked, “Do you have any skill in the kitchen?”
“My mom taught me and my brother both to cook. She wasn’t having sons who expected women to do for them every day.”
Her mother had also taught both her kids to cook, but the gender dynamics in Ben Haddon’s house were firmly traditional. “I like your mom.”
Zach grinned. Wow. Good smile. “I do, too.”
