“I’m so nervous.” Miranda stood in the kitchen with a spatula in her hand. It wasn’t like she’d never done this before, but the chances of messing up were high enough to make her sweat even in the middle of winter.
“You’ll be fine.” Vin gave her arm a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll be with you the whole way.”
“All right.” She swallowed hard. “Let’s do this.”
Vin took the package out of the refrigerator. Steaks of Omaha. Six T-bone Porterhouses, they cost well over $400 all together. They tried to order five, but Steaks of Omaha only sells them in packages of two.
“There’s no way we’re going to be able to eat all this.” Miranda eyes the huge slabs of meat. Not even counting the potatoes they already had baking or the dinner rolls left from Suzie’s dinner the night before, or the salad Miranda had made earlier in the day, the steaks alone would more than fill the average belly.
“Sure we will. I’ll have what you can’t eat.”
“But what about the boy?“
“Ben and Gene are both teenagers. I’m sure they could eat this much and more. Besides, if Tracy and Lisa come with them like they have the last several days, we’ll end up sharing.” Vin relentlessly opened packages.
“But they are too big for the griddle.”
“Which is why we also brought out a couple of frying pans. Honest, that one is so large I think Popeye would have trouble lifting it.”
“But maybe we should hold off on a couple. Just in case I make a mistake.”
“Relax. I’ll help you through it. I won’t let you cook them until they turn so hard you might break a tooth on them.”
Miranda blushed, thinking about the last time she’d tried to cook a steak. “All right. As long as you don’t leave me.”
“No chance of that, Babe.” He grinned.
“Well, then, let’s be quick. I don’t want Suzie to see. Where is she, anyway?” Miranda glanced at the door, half expecting her oh-so-helpful friend to walk in and start offering cooking tips.
“Oh. Because of the suitcase you think?”
“Yeah. It’s hard on me, too. I mean, what do you do when someone you care about mails his suitcase home, but doesn’t bother to tell you where he is or why he doesn’t need it anymore?”
Miranda nodded. “He’s got us all worried. Wouldn’t it be great if he walked in the door just as the steaks went onto the dinning room table? Imagine how surprised he’d be to find I could do it right?”
“Yeah. That would be something.” Vin smiled, but it only touched his lips, not his eyes. “Now,” His smile turned impish. “Let me show you how this is done.”
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