Page 83 of Perfect Mess

I still hadn’t asked Gary to finish the wallpaper and somehow, after the baseball to the groin incident, it didn’t seem like the right time to ask. I had to get Gary in a more relaxed setting. Or at least wait until the crotch swelling eased.

“Aunt Catherine’s house has a pool,” I said cheerfully. Gary’s expression was less cheerful, more suspicious.

“Who’s Aunt Catherine?” Kyle asked.

“My aunt,” I answered.

“She’ll let us swim in her pool?”

“She’s dead,” I explained.

Gary was already shaking his head. “Mary, it’s already been a long day. A long week, actually. I just want to go home and rest. Plus, I still have to make dinner.”

“I’ll make dinner,” I said. “Whatever you want to eat.”

“You know how to cook?” Gary looked doubtful.

Somehow, I kept my reassuring smile in place. “I’m an amazing cook. I love to cook. I cook all the time.” Turning to Kyle, I asked. “What’s your most favorite meal ever?”

I figured asking an eight-year-old what he wanted to eat for dinner was a low-risk question. Spaghetti maybe? Elbow macaroni? Cheese raviolis perhaps? All I would have to do is throw some noodles in a pot, boil them, and throw it on a paper plate. Bon appétit!

“Anything I want?” Kyle asked.

“Anything you want,” I confirmed. I noticed the vultures still sat on top of the fence watching me and smiling. One of them licked its beak.

Kyle took a moment to think, drumming his fingers on his chin. “Osso Buco,” he said at last.

“Os-so what now?” I thought maybe the bat to the head affected my hearing. I looked at Gary for confirmation.

“We went over to Karen’s house for dinner last week and that’s what she made us.” Looking over at Kyle, Gary said, “I guess it made an impression.”

“SoKarenmade this osso busso thingy?”

“Yes, but you don’t have to do that.” Gary pulled another apple juice from the cooler and tossed me another grape. “Kyle, Mary’s not making Ossu Buco. We’ll just order pizza.”

“No.” At first I wasn’t sure if I had said it or one of the vultures did. I had never made Osso Buco. I had never tried Osso Buco. Five minutes earlier, I didn’t even know that Osso Buco was a thing that exists.

“If Kyle wants Osso Buco, then that’s what I want to make,” I announced.

Kyle’s eyes lit up with excitement. So did Gary’s, but in a different way.

“Are you sure about this?” Gary asked.

“Of course I’m sure.” I figured if Karen could make Osso Buco …how hard could it be?

ChapterNineteen

Iraced straight to Aunt Catherine’s house while Gary and Kyle swung by their place to grab bathing suits and a change of clothes. When I walked in the house, Purrfect must have used some sort of telepathic cat voodoo power to foretell the impending disaster I had set in motion because she made a noise that sounded like the meowed version ofwhat the hell were you thinkingand then bolted out the back door.

The truth was, I didn’t cook, I couldn’t cook, and the last time I tried to cook anything more complicated than a box of ramen noodles, I nearly burned down my apartment. After a diet of microwave pizza, frozen pot pies, and Chinese takeout, I wasn’t sure if I could cook Osso Buco if my life depended on it. And my life did depend on it, a life of happiness and joy spent with Jack, or a life spent miserable and alone staring at ugly kitchen wallpaper.

After pacing back and forth across the kitchen for a solid ten minutes trying to tamp down a panic attack, the first thing I did was search for a recipe. Scouring social media, I learned that Ossu Buco is a traditional Milanese dish comprising veal shanks braised in white wine, onions, and various herbs no normal person has ever heard of. And according to rocketkitty90210, Osso Buco is a flavorful but extremely complex dish, and a great way to showcase one’s culinary mastery.

The second thing I did was call every food delivery service in the greater central Florida area. Unfortunately, it turns out, Osso Buco is not a very popular takeout or delivery menu item. It is also not available in the frozen food section of Publix. Or Whole Foods. Or Aldi.

That’s as far as I got because the doorbell rang. I opened the door to a face full of flowers. At least I think they were flowers. Some of them may have been weeds. Gary held the fist full of flower-like plants at arm’s length. “These are for you.”

“You brought me flowers?”Why did Gary bring flowers?I invited Gary over to talk business. Wallpaper business. Distracting Janet business. That’s it. There should not have been any flowers involved.

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