Page 55 of Every Beat of My Heart

“I’ll get the garlic bread in the oven.” I moved away, grabbing the frozen loaf from the freezer, then placing it on a pan.

Jameson stepped back from the stove. “You should probably stir it so the noodles don’t clump together.”

“I know how to cook noodles,” Owen said defensively, but he moved to grab a spoon and carefully stirred the noodles.

“Owen, be nice,” I chided, not liking his attitude.

When he was finished stirring, I opened the oven and slid the pan inside. I turned the heat to three hundred fifty.

“Let’s get that sauce started so it’s ready when the noodles are,” Jameson prodded Owen.

“You want me to cook two things at once?” Owen asked.

“It’s easy.” Jameson handed him the jar of marinara. “Dump this in a small saucepan and turn the heat on low.”

“Okay,” he said as he took the jar from Jameson, complying with his instructions.

Now the two burners were on and garlic bread was cooking in the oven. The kitchen was starting to smell like garlic and marinara, one of my favorite combinations.

“It’s best never to leave the kitchen with the stove on. Even if you take every possible precaution, you never know what could happen if you leave. You could forget the stove was on.”

Owen shook his head. “Yeah, I wouldn’t do that.”

“I think the noodles are done. You know how to drain them?” Jameson grabbed the strainer and placed it in the sink.

Owen turned off the burner, grabbed two mitts, and carried the pan to the sink where he emptied it. Steam rose from the sink as he set the pan back on the stove.

“Now remember to check the sauce. It should be warmed by now.”

I sprinkled olive oil over the noodles while Owen checked the sauce. “It’s done.”

“Perfect. Turn it off, then move the pan to a back burner, off the heat.”

The timer for the bread beeped, and I took it out of the oven.

Now that everything was turned off, Jameson said, “You did it. You cooked and nothing bad happened.”

Owen looked relieved and a little pleased.

“I’m proud of you,” I said.

Jameson looked like he was too but didn’t want to embarrass him by saying so. I wanted him to know we had his back and there was nothing he couldn’t do.

I served the spaghetti into bowls while Jameson cut the bread and arranged it on a plate.

“It’s nice to have someone helping with dinner,” I said softly when we carried everything to the table.

“Your ex didn’t help cook?”

“He was usually still at work. I used to try and hold dinner for him, but a toddler can’t wait until nine or ten to eat.”

“Of course not. I remember how Izzy was at that age.”

We sat down to eat and talk about the upcoming dance at school.”

“Is there someone you want to ask to the dance?” Jameson asked him.

Owen gave him a disgruntled look. “Why would I ask someone to the dance?”

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