“I suppose you are going to want to eat too?”
“I haven’t had dinner yet, so yeah.”
Sighing, I go downstairs to see what’s in the freezer. It doesn’t yield much outside of frozen pizzas, chicken nuggets, and bagel bites. These people have no idea of nutrition.
“What are you in the mood for?” I ask when I come up with no ideas.
“I have to eat healthy, so…”
“Hmm…” I tap my chin as I think. “Let’s do tacos.”
“Tacos? That’s healthy?”
“If you do it right, yes. We won’t do anything greasy or heavy. Let’s do chicken and lean ground beef or turkey.”
I go over to the junk drawer and pull out the pad of paper and a pen to start writing down ingredients. The only thing I can’t make myself is the shells and the tortillas. Well, technically I could, but it requires a lot of work.
“Let me get you some money…”
He’s shaking his head before I can finish. “If you’re doing the cooking, then I’m buying the groceries.”
“Who’s cooking?” one of the football players ask as he comes through the door followed by several more guys.
“Uh…”
They look so hopeful.
“I’m making tacos.”
One of them pumps their fist in the air. “My favorite food.”
“Food?” Three of the hockey guys come in, my roommates trailing behind them.
“Daisy’s making tacos.”
“And if you want to eat, then you pitch in on the groceries,” Hutch says and holds out his hand while giving me the list back. “Might need to make some adjustments.”
I’m not really up for this, but I’m stuck, so I take it back and start over, quadrupling what I’d originally put on it.
“When I say cheese, I don’t mean cheese in the packages. Look for the blocks of cheese. If they’re small, get a lot of them.”
“Blocks?” Hutch frowns. “If I have questions, can I send you a photo?”
“Just ask someone in the store, they’ll help you.”
“Dylan, Mitch, you’re with me. We’re going shopping.”
Dylan and the football guy both groan but follow Hutch out the door. Jenny comes through the door as they go out. “Oh, Daisy! Are you feeling better?”
“She’s cooking,” Cara says, “so she must feel better.”
Jenny frowns and come over to where I’m standing by the island. “Are you feeling better?”
“I don’t think I’m dying, so that’s an improvement.”
“You get roped into cooking?”
“I was only going to make myself something to eat and then Hutch came over and then one thing turned into another and everyone started talking about tacos and…” I throw my hands up.
