Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
“Van food?” Ethan said dubiously.
She nodded, “I also worked at the convenience store near my old apartment and at the end of the shift we got to take home any of the hot wings that didn’t sell.”
“It’s a wonder you’re alive,” Noah said. “Leftover hot wings? Clearance sale parking lot tacos?”
“Hey, those wings stayed hot under the lamp for ten hours at a time. They were just as good when at the end of a shift as they were fresh,” she protested.
“That,” I remarked, “is not the flex you think it is. Since that just means they were awful to start with.”
“I’m starting to suspect that none of you ever had to hustle to survive.” She shook her head at us with a half-smile.
“You’re right about that,” I said. “I did shift work some during my apprenticeship, but none of us ever went hungry.”
“I didn’t starve. But I ate a lot of free leftovers.”
“You’re a true survivor, Madison,” Ethan said. “Now I’ll clear this away and you can teach the lot of us to make muffins.”
“Oh no, I can do it myself. You’ve been so nice letting me use your kitchen. I’ve already preheated both ovens. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind. I know the top one is a convection oven. I’m not sure about the one on the bottom. Before you arrived, I took the back issues of Architectural Digest out of it.”
“What?” She said incredulously.
“I know, the issues are online, and I have a subscription. Sometimes I look through my back issues for specific design features I liked. So, I kept them in the oven I never use.” Ethan said.
We all laughed at that, because using the oven to store things was completely him—practical but a little unusual.
“If I have to use anybody else’s oven, what should I check for before I preheat it?” Madison teased.
“Instruction manuals,” I said immediately with a cockeyed grin. “I never use them, but it seems wrong to throw them away. And Noah here hides his porn in his. That way nobody ever sees it if they snoop around his apartment because who’s gonna look in the oven?”
Noah rolled his eyes. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I use my oven sometimes. I don’t treat it like an extra closet.”
When we joined her in the kitchen, Madison gave us a quick introduction to the kinds of flour she used, the different leavenings and handed Noah a plastic container. “Here’s my basic muffin mix. We have to add in flavorings and the wet ingredients. If you’ll get six eggs out of the fridge, top shelf, and break them in to a bowl with this sugar,” she measured a heaping scoop of sugar and dumped it in a bowl. Then she selected cranberries and chocolate chips, handing me a grater and an orange.
“Am I shaving it?” I said.
“Zesting it. You slide the grater across the rind and the cute little peels that curl off have a ton of flavor. Don’t grate it into the pith—the white part is bitter,” she told me. I stood at the counter and very gingerly rubbed the jagged tool across the surface of the fruit, watching as miniature orange curls tumbled off the back of it and sprinkled onto the bowl. I looked at Madison as if to say, do you see this? It works! She grinned at me.
“It’s fun,” she nodded.
I kept going and she showed Ethan how to line the muffin cups with parchment paper. He botched the first one twice and swore. “Why is this so complicated?” he grumbled.
“It’s delicate,” she said. “With your background in structural engineering and design, I thought you’d like this part.”
“I would if it were made in any sensible way,” he mumbled, finally assembling the fancy paper muffin cup. “These are ridiculous.”
“You got it,” Madison encouraged him. He huffed and started the next one.
“Careful,” I told her. “If you challenge him, he’s going to stay up all night and use eight rolls of that paper designing a new and better way to do that. He’ll have a patent on it by the end of the month.”
“Maybe not that quickly, but yes,” Ethan said.
“He’s patented several of his designs. They’re all innovations on smaller components of commercial buildings that make things convenient or sustainable,” Noah boasted. Ethan shrugged, clearly pleased but too gruff to say so.
“That’s cool,” Madison said. “I’d love to hear about them sometime.” Ethan didn’t look up from his weird baking paper origami project but made a noise in the affirmative. He was suddenly shy at the praise, and you had to know him very well to understand he wasn’t being stuck up or grouchy. He was overcome and couldn’t say more, stuck in the glow of her admiration. I could understand why. I was never at a loss for words, but I could kind of see how Madison’s full attention, her interest might be more than a man could survive. Her expectant smile was lovely and bright. I had the wild urge never to disappoint her. To promise that, which a man can never promise.