Cooking Up Romance

One last check of her social media, where there were over a hundred likes. There were also a few comments in reply to her question about believing in everyone having a double. Most said yes. One person said something that made a lot of sense: We might think someone looks exactly like someone else until they stand side by side, then we’d see the difference.

Yes! Exactly. So logical. The woman at the wedding just thought Lacy looked like someone, but all she needed to do was have them stand side by side to realize how different they were. One last person Lacy didn’t know well said: I don’t think anyone could look exactly like me unless they were my twin.

The candid comment made Lacy scoff. Right. Then the hair stood on her arms again.

The sun was shining and the temperature a pleasant seventy-five degrees when Lacy pulled onto the Gardner construction site Monday at 11:15 a.m. Zack had asked her to be there by noon, and she wanted plenty of time to set up and heat the grill. Following his instructions from Friday, she drove toward a small group of sycamore trees set away from his modular office and parked in the shade beneath them. The sound of a thousand woodpeckers wreaking havoc jumbled her thoughts. The crew was obviously hard at work framing the next batch of houses. She hoped that meant they’d be hungry.

Before she set the brake on her truck, a young girl shot out of the office missile-straight through the dirt toward her. Lacy climbed from the cab just in time to meet the little brown-haired cutie as she hit the truck steps.

“Are you the food lady?” Breathless, the child inhaled before she blurted the next phrase. “I love pink!”

Grinning, because what else was Lacy supposed to do under the adorable circumstances, she nodded. “I am, and I love pink, too.”

“Pretty apron.” Could those dark eyes look any brighter?

“Why thanks. I like your sparkly pink T-shirt, too.”

“Thanks!”

“Emma, honey, leave Ms. Winters alone so she can get set up.” Zack wasn’t far behind, looking not only apologetic but impressive in a tan work shirt, the familiar snug jeans and work boots. He hadn’t worn his hard hat, and she got a good view of his due-for-a-cut dark blonde hair. Also impressive. This was his daughter? Which probably meant he was married, too. Of course he’d be.

Poof went her secret fantasy of picking up where they’d left off when she was eleven. The absurd thought almost made her laugh outright.

“We were just introducing ourselves,” Lacy said, trying not to give away her disappointment over him likely being married while also trying to sound upbeat, in case Emma was about to get in trouble for rushing the truck.

He held back a bit, letting Emma be. The girl fidgeted like a little bunny. “We don’t want to interfere with your setup.”

“I do have a few things to pull together, so…”

“Can I help?” Emma blurted.

Would it be a help or hindrance and throw her off schedule to find something for Emma to do? “Um, tell you what, give me half an hour to set up my kitchen, then I’ll let you put out the napkins and plastic utensils.”

“Okay!” Such enthusiasm.

Why was she here, anyway? Oh right, spring break, but did that mean Zack’s wife also worked? Probably. Two-income households were a sign of the times, especially in California.

“Great,” Zack said, a pleasing glint in his impressive green eyes.

Was that glint from being a happily married man? She wasn’t looking anyway; in fact, she’d been hiding out from all things “living” for the last year, focusing solely on getting her dad’s truck redone and taking it on the road. Still, a tiny voice in the back of her head was really disappointed.

“We’ll be back later.”

Later. Oh, right, she had a job to do—impress the heck out of him! She hoped later meant he would also order lunch. Handing out free coffee and pie samples to his men on Friday was one thing—who didn’t want free stuff? But bringing the customer back to order lunch, in this case fifty construction guys, give or take a dozen, was a wide bridge to cross. She hoped she’d made a good enough impression to coax at least half of them back.

The thought of having to earn her way into a job made her heart flutter, or maybe it was the extra sneak peek she’d taken of Zack’s backside while he’d guided his delightful daughter by her shoulder back to the office. Quit looking! You’re not interested.

Besides, he’s married.

Scratch flirting off the day’s agenda, snort, as if she would if she had the nerve in the first place. This man was boss material. She needed a job not a crush.

She couldn’t very well stand around and gawk at a really fine male specimen—she had work to do. Before she reentered her truck, she opened the outside menu, which listed the complete rundown of wraps, at affordable prices considering their size and contents. All self-explanatory, too. Chicken Done Right, Put a Steak in It, Ham It Up, Eat Your Veggies, Name That Tuna, Eggs-xactly, and Down by the Sea, a daily seafood special, today’s being a cold wrap of bay shrimp with her unique take on coleslaw. Plus, the day’s assortment of hand pies—apple, peach, blueberry and puddin’, today’s flavor being chocolate. Who wouldn’t want to try out her menu at least once?

With hope cinching up her insecurity, she stepped back into the food truck and got right to work heating the grill, opening the vents, setting out the marinated steak and chicken, and all the other accoutrements.

True to her word and exactly a half hour later, little Emma popped up on the doorstep. Like a puppy off a leash. “Are you ready for my help?”

“I sure am.” As Lacy scrambled to grab the paper napkins and box of plastic utensils, it occurred to her she hadn’t started the coffee. “Crud!”

“Are you okay?” Emma’s wide eyes and mild shoulder-hunch indicated worry. Unnecessary worry.

“Oh, I’m fine, honey, I just remembered I have to get the coffee brewed before the guys show up. Oh, and if you want to stick around, I’ll let you hand out the bottled water or canned sodas when they buy them.”

“Okay! This is fun.” Emma took the napkins and plastic forks and trotted outside to the pull-out counter. She rushed back in the instant she’d finished, her little pink-sneaker-clad foot tapping. “What else can I do?”

“Uh, well, how about putting the mustard, mayo and ketchup bottles out for me?”

“Okay!”

It certainly didn’t take much to make the child excited. A flash of being around the same age and helping her dad during the summers led her back to the handsome first adult crush of her life, Zackery Gardner, who just happened to be Emma’s dad. The married guy with a family. But really, what were the odds of crossing his path again? What a coincidence.

Everything went quiet. Silence fell over the truck like a thick blanket. What happened to the busy woodpeckers?

Lacy glanced at her watch. Noon. No need for a horn or whistle to mark that. Evidently, the construction crew knew instinctively and had stopped working. Her previously distracted stomach flutters immediately reported back for duty. Taking a deep breath, as if her future didn’t depend on selling wraps to new customers in order to land a regular job, she hopped into place behind the counter and waited.

And waited.

Until the silence became painful.

Looking down the site, half of the men sat on the concrete slabs of the houses eating from lunch pails, and a dozen or two had hopped into cars and driven off for someone else’s fast food, no doubt. They didn’t even bother to look at her as they drove by. She hadn’t won a single man over by handing out her desserts last Friday. She guessed she was not good enough to pay for. She’d never once used the word crestfallen in casual conversation, but it turned out to be the perfect word to best explain how she felt right then.

As her heart sank, dragging her self-esteem with it, Zack came out from the office leading a line of three other employees behind him. One woman, two men. Not counting Little Miss Enthusiasm. He stepped up to the window, a sympathetic smile creasing his mouth. “Lunch is on me,” he said over his shoulder to the office staff, his left hand resting on the food truck counter. When all her concentration should’ve been on the noble act Zack had just performed, instead she couldn’t help noticing there was no sign of a wedding ring.

The small group of employees looked over her menu and each made their order. No two alike. Next Zack gave her his—Put a Steak in It, no onions.

“May I have my own wrap, Dad?” Little Emma spoke up.

“Sure, Shortcake.”

His sweet gesture of buying everyone lunch made Lacy’s eyes go glassy, but instead of letting humiliation take over, she got right to work making the best dang batch of wraps she knew how. Being a hand talker, she’d learned over the years she couldn’t talk and prepare food at the same time, so she went quiet. Otherwise, she’d never get anything made. Out of gratitude, when she was finished, she threw in a pie for each of them.

“Coffee’s on me, if you’d like,” she said, as she processed the last order and gave Zack his change. They all obviously appreciated her throwing in the free stuff, but seriously, she’d made a fifty-cup urn of coffee that was going down the drain anyway.

He winked, and she felt twelve again, nearly blushed, too. Which wasn’t right because he was married, and that interchange had been so wrong. As she cleaned the workstation, her stomach twisted with defeat. She’d had such high hopes for this job, and after today’s sorry showing, he probably wouldn’t even invite her back for Wednesday.

Just about ready to give up, she noticed two construction guys moseying over toward her truck. Maybe they were curious after seeing their boss and the office crew get their lunch. They read over her menu and both ordered the steak wrap. If they really liked the food, maybe they’d come back and tell their work friends, too. If she was still there on Wednesday.

Then, as she made their wraps, a couple more guys made their way to her order window. “Ham It Up and Name That Tuna. Got it!”

All it took was someone leading the way. Thanks, Zack!

The female employee was the only one to take her lunch back to her desk. Everyone who stuck around to eat stood, since there wasn’t any place to sit. Hadn’t Zack said he’d set up something last Friday? Though standing, they all seemed to really enjoy their meals. At least there was that.

“This is the best tuna sandwich I ever had!” Emma said with her usual intensity.

“Let me have a bite,” Zack said.

“No Dad, you have your own.”

“I thought we shared stuff.”

“Oh, okay.”

He took a huge bite as Emma griped loudly. “Hey, leave some for me.”

“It is delicious, but I can’t believe you’re going to finish it.”

“Well, I might leave room for some puddin’ pie.”

“Then let’s wrap this up and take it home,” Zack said, extra loud, making a point to catch Lacy’s gaze, like a proud kid while saying the title of her truck.

As down as she felt over the lack of customers, she couldn’t help but smile.

But, hey, Zack had already broken his promise to set up places for people to sit. Everyone was forced to stand to eat the two-handed wraps, a messy business. He probably didn’t expect her to come back, or he wanted to see how the turnout was first before he made the effort, so why bother now. Good call, too, after the day’s paltry sales.

With only fifteen minutes remaining in the lunch hour break, and after selling only a dozen wraps, Lacy got an idea. She made a cell phone call to Zack, who’d gone back inside the office.

“Mr. Gardner, is it okay if I take some wrap samples to the guys out on the construction site?”

“I don’t see why not,” he said, after a second of silence. Construction had stopped. “Just watch out for nails and…”

“I will. Promise. Thanks!” She hustled to make two of each wrap on her menu, then cut them all into four pieces. With Emma sticking around like she was on the clock, Lacy grabbed two trays and, after covering them with a paper liner, put half of the sandwiches on each of the trays.

“Emma, can you carry one of these trays for me?”

“Okay!” Bright-eyes was on it.

Lacy grabbed a stack of flyer-styled menus, stuffed them in her apron pocket and headed out the door. Since the crowd hadn’t come to her, she’d go to the crew.

With Emma grinning and playing the perfect hostess, offering samples to the men who worked for her father, and with Lacy playing backup, they passed out every single quarter-wrap. Who could possibly refuse? Better yet, the men seemed to like them. Really like them. So she got another idea.

“If you bring the flyer with you on Wednesday, and buy a wrap, I’ll throw in a free coffee and hand pie of your choice.”

A few of the men took the menus right off. As more of them ate the various wraps, another handful took flyers. The interested response was better than nothing.

Heading back to her truck to clean up and shut down, some of the men who’d returned from eating off-site followed her.

“I’ll take a flyer,” one of them said, then another and another.

“I’ve still got coffee if you’d like a cup.”

Half a dozen stuck around for that, and since they were hanging around, she gave them some of the leftover hand pies, of which there were many. The assorted pies clearly got their approval, and soon a few more guys wandered over. Who didn’t want a free dessert?

It hadn’t been a winning day, but at least she hadn’t fallen completely on her face.

When she was all set to leave, she thought she should take a walk to the office, to see if Zack even wanted her coming back on Wednesday.

Hating the insecurity that was strung around her like Christmas tree lights after New Year’s, she stepped inside, doing her best to hide her true mood. One of the guys Zack had bought lunch for looked up from his desk and smiled. “That was a great seafood wrap.”

“Oh, thank you. Glad you liked it. I, uh, was hoping to talk to Mr. Gardner?”

The mobile office was small, and she could see Zack’s modest room in the back corner. He knew she was there, and the guy in the front area didn’t have a chance to reply before Zack gestured for her to come over.

Not wanting to appear timid, she mustered what was left of her confidence, holding her head high before she stepped inside. Thankfully, she’d remembered to take off her toque and remove the hair net.

“So what do you think?” Zack started.

“Wasn’t a very good showing. I was hoping a lot more guys would try out the food.”

“We’ve been here a month now, and they’ve gotten used to their routines. I think you should give it another shot, that is if you think it’s worth your effort. Come back on Wednesday and Friday, too—if you don’t have a better place to park somewhere else?”

Sitting behind his desk, laptop open, looking so darn appealing and being about as considerate as a person could be, Zack said the words she’d hoped for. Come back. She fought the urge to rush to him and throw her arms around his neck. Pure fantasy, of course, since she’d never do that to a near stranger, no matter how wonderful they were. Especially if they might be married. And a potential work contract.

“I’ll be here.”

Emma showed up from another office. “I wish you could come tomorrow, too.”

“You’re such a sweetie.” It was easy, and felt natural to draw the child close to her waist and deliver a single-armed hug. What she couldn’t do to the father was safe to do to his kid. Emma seemed to really crave the attention, too. “You were a big help today.”

“That’s because I want to be a cook when I grow up.”

“You do? That’s great.”

“So, we’ll see you Wednesday, then?” Zack broke in. “Same time and place?”

She looked Zackery Gardner in the eyes, feeling a powerful surge of something run through her that had nothing to do with getting a second chance, and pretended to be cool as a seasoned cucumber in rice vinegar. Cool was necessary around such a man. Especially since he was a family man.

“You betcha.”

Wednesday, when she pulled her rig onto the construction site, she couldn’t help but notice someone had set out a bunch of overturned wooden crates. Had Zack done it for the men to sit on? If so, that was progress and a sign of good faith. She sure hoped she could fill those makeshift seats today.

Out the door ran Emma from the office and, following behind, Zack.

“Hi!” Emma said, looking as if she was bursting to tell Lacy something.

“Thought setting up some places for the men to sit might bring more guys over,” Zack explained as he made the last few steps to her truck.

“I can sure use the help and it’s certainly worth a try. Thank you.”

“Probably should’ve done it for Monday, but I think you’ll have a much better turnout today.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Dad gave them a peck talk and said they should try your lunches.”

“Pep talk,” Zack corrected.

“You did?” Warmth started at Lacy’s neck and rose to her cheeks. He’d only do that if he wanted her to stick around.

He looked flustered and maybe a little irritated, thanks to Emma’s honesty. “Well, I have a bit of an ulterior motive.”

“Other than helping me sell food and keep this job?”

His appealing sun-tinged eyebrows tented, and his normally heavy lidded eyes narrowed the tiniest bit. “Well, yes.”

“Will you teach me to cook?”

Instead of snapping at Emma for letting the cat out of the bag, like some parents would, Zack tossed Lacy a hopeful look. “Emma really wants to learn how to cook, and…”

Who needed to think about such a sweet offer? “I’d love to.”

Emma clapped, then rushed to hug Lacy’s waist tight, just like the other day.

“Of course, I can’t exactly teach her how to cook here.” She used her hands to motion around the construction site and toward her truck under the trees.

“Right,” he said. “We were hoping you might be available Saturday afternoon?”

Saturday afternoon—wasn’t that a family kind of day? Where was his wife, and why wasn’t she teaching Emma to cook? Did he have one? A wife? No ring. Maybe for safety reasons, he left it off at work. But his daughter seemed starved for female attention. However, Saturday afternoon didn’t exactly fall into dating time zone, and any dates Lacy had ever gone on had not so far included a child, a mystery wife or cooking lessons. Still, she looked forward to getting to know both of the Gardners better. “Would you like to drop her off at my house?”

Those sexy, sleepy-looking eyes studied her carefully. “Would you consider coming to ours?”

Chapter Three

Saturday afternoon, Lacy showed up at Zack’s house at the appointed time, three o’clock, with a single tote bag of groceries in hand. It was obvious the man was in construction, having taken a typical Little River Valley home and remodeled it into something amazing. A large porch wrapped around the entire house, promising a huge back patio. He’d painted the structure a trendy gray and highlighted it with beige-and-stone-colored river rock-posts. The double front cherrywood doors with added stained-glass sidelights covered nearly half of the front of the house and made quite an impression. Lacy stopped briefly in her tracks to take it all in. Wow. He knew what he was doing, and she’d hire him in a minute—if she could afford a renovation.

Emma must have been watching through the large add-on bay window, another feature Lacy loved, because the little girl opened the door before Lacy reached the top step.

“Hi!” Emma said, looking tiny in the travertine-tiled entry.

“Hey you. Are you guys ready for me?” Having admitted on the drive over to a boatload of nerves about seeing Zack Gardner off duty made Lacy try particularly hard for a cool and breezy greeting. She stepped through the threshold into a surprisingly modern looking step-down living room. The floor changed to hardwood or maybe an upscale laminate that looked like wood but could handle heavier traffic. Not that there’d be that much going on with a small family, but maybe the Gardners threw a lot of parties? That didn’t ring true, still she wondered. There was recessed lighting, and the open floor concept led right to the kitchen. Nice. Homey. Surprisingly so.

Zack appeared from down the hall, a warm smile on his face. “Hi. Welcome.”

He took her breath away just by showing up, immediately putting her on edge. “Thanks.” She tried her best to keep a calm facade. “Your house is gorgeous.”

“Glad you like it.” Without asking he took her grocery sack and headed to the updated kitchen. The only thing more appealing about a seriously attractive man was a gentleman. Shoot. She was a goner.

Emma grabbed Lacy’s hand and led her there. Grateful for the reminder why she was there in the first place, she squeezed the little girl’s fingers.

“What are we cooking?”

“I thought we’d start with something everyone loves—spaghetti and meat sauce. The easy and tasty way. Do you like pasta?”

“I love it.” With such enthusiasm, the child was bound to be a great student, and Lacy vowed to keep her focus on her, not her dad.

Except Zack dressed in casual khakis instead of jeans, and a sage-green sport shirt that made his eyes even more impressive. Hard to look away from. He unpacked the bag, setting the contents on the wide neutral-toned quartz countertop. Another nice upgrade. The man had excellent taste. Though obviously remodeled, the kitchen was a modest size but with enough space for the three of them to easily move around. She needed to think practically, and who knew if he planned to stick around or not?

A small round oak table in the center of the kitchen seemed out of place. Maybe it was a sentimental piece. There was no doubt it was where the father-daughter duo took their meals together. Breakfast crumbs were still in evidence. Lacy put her purse on the table, then moved to the stainless-steel sink with the stylish extrahigh arched faucet to wash her hands. She could get used to a kitchen like this. And Zack? Another story.

Focus, Lacy, focus.

“First things first, right Emma?” Handwashing 101. Since her hands were busy, Lacy gestured with her head for Emma to join her at the sink.

Emma stepped right up, taking the obvious hint. Holding back a bit, leaning on the counter on the other side of the stove, Zack waited his turn.

So this was going to be a group lesson. Fine with her, as long as she could get over her jitters. The more the merrier, though his presence kept her body and mind humming, which could prove to be very distracting. Her year of going inward had left its mark, and now she suffered the consequence of cutting herself off from the world. One good-looking guy, and she was a basket case. That had to be it, right? Well, that and their history of him being her first adult crush. Him and Brad Pitt, anyway. Hmm, so she did like dark blonds.

Where was she now? Spaghetti!

“The good thing about spaghetti is it’s easy, and all you need is a salad and maybe some bread to make a big and satisfying meal.” Lacy pointed out both the long, fresh loaf of bread and the bag of triple-washed organic greens. “Some people make the sauce completely from scratch, which calls for advanced training. So, to make things easier and to take less time, I’m using Italian crushed tomatoes and some regular tomato sauce—” she half covered her mouth with the back of her hand, her voice a whisper “—from cans.”

Lacy let Emma hold and look closely at the cans so she’d remember what to buy in the future. Then she pulled out the jotted recipe on a filing card she’d put together earlier, printed especially for a ten-year-old to read, and handed it to Emma. Then, under Lacy’s direction, Emma went right to work choosing the pots and utensils with which to cook.

Though busy teaching Emma how to dice an onion and a bell pepper, then how to use a crusher for garlic, Lacy was acutely aware of Zack. How could she not be? He may have stood back to give his daughter the run of things—after all it was his daughter’s cooking lesson—but he never left the room. Lacy imagined many fathers would take off at the first opportunity. He’d been handed some golden free time if he wanted, but he chose to stick around. When he’d said they both might learn something, apparently he hadn’t been kidding.

After the onion and pepper sautéed in olive oil for a while, they added the pressed garlic and she let Emma help her tear apart the ground beef and stir the pot with a long-handled slotted spoon.

“This smells sooo good?” Emma said, as though a question. “My tummy’s growling.”

Zack smiled. Lacy knew because she’d kept her acute peripheral vision on alert. He stepped over to peek in the pot, then he winked at his daughter in approval. Even though the gesture wasn’t meant for Lacy, it still caused a warm reaction, a bull’s-eye in her heart.

The only thing more appealing than a gentleman? A good father who obviously loved his kid.

“What’s your favorite kind of pasta?” Lacy asked Emma.

“I don’t know.”

“Later, while the sauce simmers, we’ll talk about all the different kinds, but for today, I brought basic spaghetti, okay?”

“Okay!”

Lacy handed Emma a long wooden spoon. “This is to stir the pot with from time to time, after we add the tomatoes and sauce.”

Emma took it, making note of how long it was—the better to stir in a tall pot with—and then playfully pretended to conduct an imaginary orchestra. It occurred to Lacy that playing in a kitchen was probably a necessary part of teaching a kid to cook, So, not caring what Dad thought, Lacy pretended to play a violin.

“Would you like something to drink?” Zack asked, hopefully not because the girls had made him uncomfortable with the silliness.

Maybe she should feel embarrassed, but the smile on Emma’s face was worth it. And she was, after all, the reason Lacy was there.

“Sure,” Lacy said. “Were we being too loud?” She mugged.

He gave a tolerant closed-mouth laugh, the kind that sounded like loud breathing. “Not at all. I just thought all that conducting and fiddle playing might make you both thirsty.”

That was another thing to like about him, his willingness to let his kid be a kid, not expecting Emma to be perfectly behaved, though she was pretty much borderline perfect in Lacy’s book.

“I’ve got iced tea, water, or I can make some coffee if you’d prefer.”

“Iced tea sounds good. Thanks.” She glanced up as she thanked him, and their eyes met and held for what she thought was longer than necessary, because any amount of time staring at Zack’s eyes was too long. She’d already figured that out. That familiar little zing through her body that he always managed to evoke quickly followed.

Could there be more going on here than cooking lessons, and not just with her? Part of her wanted to run and stick her head in a pot; another part seriously hoped so. Though she wouldn’t want to ruin Emma’s shot at cooking lessons. Or her new food truck gig, since business had picked up on Wednesday, and by Friday just about everyone stuck around for her lunches. Zack had told her the job was hers if she wanted it. Of course, she did! She’d run home and bragged about it on social media, too.

File under: Life is full of surprises. Monday I’ll be starting a new gig on—get this—a construction site! Plus, I get to teach a child to cook. I’m excited!

Next, she ran a quick poll: What’s your stand on kids in the kitchen? Yes or No?

At last check she’d had fifty-six likes and the yeses outnumbered the nos three to one.

“Can I have a soda?” Emma broke in.

“How about a juice box?” Zack parried.

She made a face. “Naw, I’ll just have water.”

“Good choice!” he said.

It was also good to know Zack didn’t spoil Emma, and she didn’t get everything she wanted. Well, other than cooking lessons, but that was practical. She seemed well adjusted, probably because of his efforts.

“Want to know why at first the guys held off trying out your wraps?” Zack asked casually as he filled two glasses with ice, then poured cold brewed tea in one and refrigerator water in the other.

“I didn’t serve hamburgers?”

“Nope.” But that got another smile out of him. “Because they said your truck looked like it served ice cream, not good, solid food.”

“Well, I can see how they might get that impression.”

“I took a bit of razzing from them about the bright pink, and the name, too.”

They laughed together, and somehow she relaxed a little and felt closer to him. It was probably a crazy observation, but laughing with someone had always felt intimate for Lacy and was a great way to break the ice with new relationships. Not that they had any kind of relationship going. Heavens, no, she was far too out of practice, and a man like him, well, the ladies probably lined up.

She took the proffered drink and nearly guzzled half of it while he handed the second plastic glass to Emma.

“Thirsty?” Zack teased.

She nodded self-consciously. Under his watchful eye Lacy felt like she was on the hot seat.

“What do we do next?” Emma asked, uninterested in the ice water.

Lacy had completely zoned out. Forgotten what she was there to do. Because, that was what happened when she looked into Zack Gardner’s eyes.

“Um, what does the recipe say?” She took pride in covering for her lapse so well.

Emma dutifully read the note card, got the can opener out of the drawer and, with Lacy’s assistance, after draining the excess grease from the cooked ground meat, they added the sauce and crushed Italian tomatoes to the pot.

“Now give it a good stir with that wooden spoon. We’ll wait until it comes to a boil, then turn down the heat to let it simmer. Later we’ll add some extra Italian seasoning.” She’d brought an Italian seasoning blend to make things easier for Emma.