“You have nothing in your refrigerator,” Terri grumbled as she climbed out the car. “Nothing. Not even a pitcher of water.” She shoved the door then jumped when it slammed shut. Her reaction indicated she had not meant to take her frustration out on the vehicle.
Shane shrugged, slightly amused at her exasperation. “Never saw the purpose of cooking. Not when I have restaurants in town.” He came around the car, took her hand, and led her towards The Swig.
“You should at least know how to make eggs.”
“Never cared for them.”
“And toast bread.”
“Bagels are more filling.”
“And fry bacon.”
“I prefer sausage.” He opened the door to the restaurant.
“Will you stop being difficult?” She snatched her hand out of his and marched inside.
“It’d be easier to ask a chicken to lay a square egg,” Angie said as she placed a plate on the table in front of Hank. “Let me guess, you've seen the inside of his refrigerator.”
Terri shook her head woefully. “Yes,” she sighed.
“Don’t blame him.” His sister-in-law walked over and patted the Terri’s shoulder. “Hank was negligent in teaching him to cook.”
“Hey, I tried and he nearly burnt down the house,” his brother protested. “I never knew anyone to be as inept in the kitchen as him.”
“I don’t see what the big deal is,” Shane said. “Cooking’s not everything.”
Angie and Terri gasped as if he had cursed their grandmothers. He immediately realized his mistake. The women had been raised in the kitchen and took more pride in their cooking than he did with his car.
“Okay, that came out wrong.” Shane glanced at his brother for help.
His eldest sibling shook his head. “You’re on your own.”
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