Dinner

Dinner

“How’s it look?”

“It could be worse.”

“Not helpful,” Linda said. “This is for dinner.”

“Why do you keep doing this?” sister Sandy asked.

“Doing what?”

“Trying to cook! You hate to cook, you’ve hated to cook all your life. You wouldn’t even toast marshmallows at bonfires! You hate, hate, hate cooking!”

“But I’m married now! I’m supposed to cook.”

“Do you think Alex expects you to cook? I happen to know he is always a little afraid when you try... Plus he loves to cook. If George loved to cook I’d never cook again, and I actually like cooking.”

“I just think I ought to try sometimes...”

Sandy looked at her suspiciously, “Where were you this morning that I had to wait to come over?”

“I had to go to a PTA meeting, at Angelia’s house.”

“Angela Brent? The same Angela who Alex dated before you? The same Angela who has a cooking blog online?”

“Yes... so?”

“So, now I know what to tell you about your meatloaf.”

“What?”

“It’s dog food...”

“What?!”

“I was trying to be kind when I said it could be worse, it couldn’t! Stop trying! You will never, ever impress Alex with cooking!”

“But he loves food, and cooking, and all that stuff!”

“So do something with it that you both enjoy.”

“Like what?”

“Like surprise him with reservations to Donatello’s or something!”

“Why didn’t I think of that!” Linda said, reaching for the phone.”

“Because I’m the smart one,” Sandy said.

“Be careful there... I happen to know all your secrets, like when you forgot to bring underwear to the pool in first grade because you had your bathing suit on. So... you had to walk all the way home wearing a dress, and no underwear...”

“Got it...” said Sandy, shutting up.