Baking 101: The Final Ingredient

Dear Readers,

Thank you for being so understanding about my need to take a day off. As some of you know, I homeschool the children as well as have a full schedule taking them to all their therapy, so time for myself is pretty much nonexistent at this point. This weekend the kids decided that tattling on each other was the best thing since sliced bread. Literally every five minutes someone was being told on. Since I don’t drink, it took its toll. 

I really just needed a day to myself. Spent the day in bed in between taking care of the kids, reading the Divergent series. 

Moving on, this Chronicle series probably ends a bit differently than you’d expected, because my intention was to get out one simple fact for future books, Bradford men can cook. With that in mind, I am going to leave it up to you if you want to see the actual cooking lessons. Let me know if you want to see them.

One last thing, and probably the most important. I would like to say thank you to the friends and families who have lost someone special while defending our country. Even though I know this is a day to honor our lost soldiers, and honestly I don’t think that we could ever truly show them how much they mean to us, I would also like to honor Police Officers, Fire Fighters, and EMTs who have lost their lives trying to protect us on the home front. 

Thank you for everything that you do for us.

R.L.

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The content in this Chronicle and on this website is intended for adults, 18 years and older.

Baking 101: The Final Ingredient

An R.L. Mathewson Chronicle

            “I’m sorry. What was that?” Jason asked, shoving a cookie in his mouth as he tried not to panic.

            There was no fucking way that she’d just said what he’d thought she had, because that would mean…

            He shifted his attention to the large bastard curled into the fetal position in the bed next to him. There was no way that Trevor was dumb enough to open his big fucking mouth. Then again, that would explain why he felt the need to shove nuclear waste in his mouth, Jason mused thoughtfully as he nibbled on a cookie.

            “Well?” Zoe asked, looking hopeful and making him feel like an asshole for what he was about to do, but he had no choice.

            “Well, what?” he asked, glancing back up and oh, shit that was a mistake.

            “Can Bradford men cook?” she asked, sounding a little less sure than she had a few seconds ago and all he could hope for was that she would get discouraged and let the subject go.

            “Your son can,” he reminded her with a smile, not quite able to meet her gaze as he forced himself to pop another cookie in his mouth and act like everything was okay.

            “Yes, I know that, but Trevor said that Bradford males are taught to cook, which I guess would make sense, but I’ve never seen or heard anything over the years that would confirm it,” she explained with a little sigh that told him how close she was to dropping this conversation and letting it go.

            He chuckled as he got up, making sure to elbow the fucking rat bastard in the back first, and tossed the empty bag on the bed, once again making sure that it hit Trevor and headed for the bedroom door. “It would have come in handy over the years,” he says, hoping that she thinks that he’s agreeing with her instead of being evasive and trying to make his escape.

            Fucking asshole, he thought even as he leaned down and kissed one of Zoe’s soft cheeks.

            “Yeah, I guess,” she mumbled as she worried her bottom lip, looking lost in and thought.

            Perfect.

            Time to leave, he thought, deciding that his job here was done.

            As long as Trevor managed to keep his mouth shut, they should be in the clear. He’d go home, pretend that nothing happened and if it got brought up again, he’d just laugh it off. He’d of course have to warn the others about Trevor’s betrayal and take part in his punishment, but other than that he’d just let this one die out on its own.

            “Jason, can I ask you a question?” Zoe suddenly asked, letting him know that he wasn’t getting off that easy.

            Shit!

            “Hmm?” he murmured distractedly as he turned around and faced the small woman with the calculating glimmer in her eye.

            Oh, shit…

            “So, if you don’t know how to cook, then how did you survive all those years before you met Haley?” she asked as she crossed her arms and let them rest on the large swell of her stomach, reminding him of everything this small woman had done for his family over the years.

            “Umm, a lot of takeout,” he said absently, not feeling right about lying to her.

            “Takeout? That must have been expensive, especially with the Bradford appetite,” she said as she came to a stop in front of him and looked up at him with an expression that dared him to lie to her.

          He opened his mouth to do just that only he couldn’t get the words out, not with her looking up at him like that. So, he tried to shift his gaze a few inches to the right, but she moved so that he was still looking at her. Apparently, she’d learned that move while dealing with Trevor. Yet, another reason to beat the shit out of the bastard.

            Closing his eyes, he released a heavy sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He was really going to have to fucking kill Trevor for this.

            Already having guessed why this was so important to her, he said, “I’ll teach you how to cook, but if anyone asks, it was Trevor.”

            She nodded. “Deal!”

If you would like to see the cooking lessons, please let me know.

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