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She looked at me as if she knew my secret.
“Please.” Jesus, I was about to drop to my knees.
"You drive a hard bargain."
I grinned, feeling ridiculously happy. "Good."
We got our clothes back together, and as much as I didn't want her to return to her office, I also knew that leaving Dean alone for too long probably wasn't a good idea. I didn't want to think badly of him, but the kid had skipped school, and so I had to consider that he could skip the office.
When she left, the first thing I did was pull out my phone and begin to look at easy to make gourmet meals. I made a list and then headed out to the grocery shop. In the same shopping center as the grocery, there was a toy store. I knew that Dean was too old for toys, but maybe they'd have a game or something.
When I was growing up, my parents always had a game night. Maybe that was something that Dean and Betts and I could start together. I told myself that I shouldn't be thinking of Betts as being a part of my unit with Dean, but just like Betts herself, I found it difficult not to.
Once I had everything I needed, I returned to the office and retrieved Dean, who had written his report and had even emailed it to his teacher.
As we drove home, I asked him, "What do you know about cooking?"
He looked at me with suspicion in his eyes. "That you do it in an oven or stove."
I nodded. "I need you to be my sous chef tonight. Betts is coming over for dinner, and I told her I would cook something great."
Dean let out a laugh. While I didn't like the idea that he was laughing at me, at the same time, it took me off guard. The kid was so closed off around me. So, to see him let loose like that made me happy.
"Maybe you should order out,” he quipped.
I gave him a look. "We can do this."
He rolled his eyes, but they didn't hold the disdain they had in the past.
Once we were home, Dean went off to his room, telling me he was going to finish up his homework.Right, I reminded myself. His schoolwork came first.
I put away the groceries and then pulled out the recipe I found on the Internet and read it through once again. The recipe was chicken piccata, which was basically chicken with capers and a lemon butter sauce. It didn’t sound hard. As it turned out, it was hard. At least for me.
"What are you burning?"
I turned to see Dean entering the kitchen.
"You need to come help me or we’ll end up serving a ruined dinner to Betts.”
Dean rolled his eyes. "Okay, but only because of Betts."
Dean found the recipe and started going through the steps.
"Did you dredge the chicken through the flour mixture?”
I turned to look at him. "Mixture? I put flour on it."
"It says here you're supposed to combine the flour, salt, and black pepper. I think coat means you're supposed to put the chicken in the flour and get it all covered. Not dump the flour on the chicken."
I frowned as I stood next to him reading the recipe. "This is a disaster."
Dean went over to a cupboard and pulled out a bowl. "Maybe we should try again."
I watched as he followed the directions, putting the flour and the salt and pepper as the directions had said. Thankfully, I hadn't messed up all the chicken, so he took the few pieces that were left, patted them dry with a paper towel, and then buried them, one at a time, in the flour mixture until they were coated.
"How did you learn how to do that?"
He shrugged as he muscled me out of the way and put the chicken into the pan. "I learned to cook."
