Page 29 of Fostering Chemistry
"Did he cook then?"
"No. Not once."
"Does he just not know how?"
Aaron paused, the metal potato masher buried under fluffy white starch. "It’s hard to say with Cody. He’s my friend, but I can’t claim to really understand him well. Diego made it clear that this year he has to, so it’ll be his turn next week. I’m sure he’s grateful that you gave him a week’s reprieve.”
My mind was still on Cody. “If he doesn’t cook, what does he eat?” On other days of the week, the rest of us made our own food.
“I think he eats on campus a lot. And when he’s here, he mostly grabs fruit or chips or a PBJ. Diego always makes sure to have ready-made food on the grocery list. Not just for Cody. A lot of us don‘t have much time for meal prep, so that’s why we enjoy Tuesday night dinners.”
As I added more seasoning to the ground beef, I sent up a little prayer to the universe that Aaron still felt that way after tonight’s meal.
After the meat was done, I divided it into two huge glass baking dishes, according to the shirtless chef’s instructions. I kept the sound off and read the captions so that Aaron didn’t notice me ogling the good-looking guy.
The drained green beans went in next along with some corn and peas. Then it was time for the mashed potatoes.
"Can I take these, and you work on the next pot?" I asked.
"Sure." He flexed his arms as if they were sore. "It seems like you have more than you need."
"Well, it’s the top layer—except for the sprinkled cheese—and I think it’s supposed to be thick."
He started on the second batch of potatoes while I scooped the first into the casserole dishes. It filled one and part of the second. When he finished the second batch, I covered the rest and started sprinkling shredded cheddar over it.
"Why are there so many potatoes left over?" he asked as he put the heavy glass dishes into the oven I held open.
"I don’t know. The recipe called for two pounds, and I doubled that since there are seven of us."
"So four pounds of potatoes?"
"Yes."
He glanced at the counter. "So why are there two bags there?"
"What do you mean?" I squinted at the empty mesh bag he held up. “They were two pounds each.”
Aaron held the bag closer. “They were five pounds each.”
"Oh my god. You mean I didn’t have to cut all those up?”
His smile was half sympathetic and half amused. “Nope. And hopefully that means I don’t have to mash the last pot.”
Dammit. I couldn’t believe I’d done that. "But what else can we do with them?"
Aaron surveyed the still-steaming potato chunks. "Stick a toothpick in them, pop them in the freezer, and call them mashed potato-sicles?”
I laughed but then I focused on him with pleading eyes. "Could you please just mash them? I don’t know what else to do with them."
Aaron sighed.
Forty minutes later, I was a mess, but the food was ready. Diego sat at the head of the table looking like a proud parent when I brought out the first shepherd’s pie. Aaron brought out the second.
Then Diego’s eyes widened when we each brought out another bowl of mashed potatoes. And then Aaron went back and got the last one.
"So... lots of potatoes,” Diego said, while the others just stared.
But then everyone dug in, and to my surprise, no one hated it. In fact… it seemed like they actually liked it. Most of them. Cody wasn’t eating very much. Nor was Raymond.
