Page 98 of Cooking Up My Comeback
“Oursuccess,” I correct. “They’re rooting for both of us.”
“Even when we argue in public?”
“Especially then. They like a good show.”
Later, I work on the promised clam chowder recipe in my kitchen while Brett sits at my island with his laptop, working on supplier contracts. Mason builds an elaborate Lego castle at our feet, providing running commentary.
“This tower needs tobe really tall so the princess can see pirates coming,” he announces, adding another level to his architectural marvel. “And it needs a secret escape tunnel in case the pirates have cannons.”
“Smart planning,” Brett says, glancing down at the construction project. “Always good to have an exit strategy.”
“Do you have an escape plan?” Mason asks with directness.
Brett pauses, fingers hovering over his keyboard. “For what?”
“For when you marry Mommy and become our dad.”
I nearly drop the ladle I’m holding. Brett’s face rotates through several interesting color changes.
“Mason,” I manage, “that’s not... we’re not...”
“But you like him,” Mason continues with the ruthless logic of a preschooler. “And he fixes things and brings us presents. That’s what dads do.”
“Some dads,” Brett says carefully. “But your mom and I are business partners.”
“Tally says business partners don’t look at each other like that.”
“Like what?” I ask, though I’m not sure I want the answer.
“Like ice cream,” Mason says matter-of-factly. “All melty and happy.”
The domesticity of itshould feel weird—we had a fight this morning, after all—but instead it feels right. This represents what partnership looks like: disagreeing about methods while working toward the same goal, with a preschooler providing unsolicited relationship advice.
“Grandma Pearl’s famous clam chowder,” I announce, ladling soup into bowls. “Fair warning—this recipe has caused marriage proposals.”
Brett raises an eyebrow. “Threat or promise?”
My cheeks heat. “Poor word choice. I didn’t mean...”
He stands and comes around the island. “Relax. I know what you meant.” He pauses, eyes twinkling with rare humor. “But if this chowder lives up to its reputation, I might reconsider my timeline.”
“Timeline for what?”
“For deciding whether your relationship-based business model actually works.”
“Very romantic.”
“I’m a practical man.”
“I’ve noticed. It’s part of your charm.”
“I have charm?”
“Hidden under layers of grumpiness, but yes.”
He tastes the chowder, and I watch his expression change. His eyes close, and he makes a sound of appreciation that accelerates my heart rate.
“This tastes incredible.”
