Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
He strained the pasta and then I helped him slowly incorporate the sauce he’d whipped up. The pasta came together into a delicious, cheesy sauce, and Evan added in the pancetta and gave it all a stir. If you’d asked me an hour ago what pancetta was, I’d have had no clue, but now I knew it was basically bacon, and my mouth watered.
“Did you add the red pepper flakes to the pancetta?” Evan asked as he washed his hands.
“Shit, no,” I said.
“No problem. We can do it now.”
I headed back to the stove and added the small container of red pepper flakes, “Red pepper flakes are in,” I said. “I hope Zach’s home soon. We need to eat fast.”
Tonight we were cooking dinner a little early because my shift at Red’s started at seven. I had to work until two in the morning, but Evan had still wanted to come over and make dinner beforehand.
Evan came over to my side, standing right next to me. “Wait,” he said.
“What’s up?” I glanced up at him and saw that his eyes were wide.
“Did you add… all of the red pepper flakes?” he asked.
I picked up the small empty container. “Yeah. I added them in.”
“Oh, dear,” Evan said.
“You said to add them.”
“Well, we really only wanted to add a pinch…” Evan said. “Not an entire spice jar.”
“Oh, no,” I said, just as I heard Zach coming through the front door.
“Holy shit, I’m so hungry,” Zach said, appearing in the kitchen, cheeks slightly flushed from his walk in the cold. “Smells good. Spicy, though.”
My stomach sank as I looked at the pasta. Every inch was coated in red pepper flakes now. Evan had been hard at work in the kitchen for the last hour or so, and I had just ruined the meal.
“Hey Zach, you like Chinese takeout, right?” Evan said.
“I’m such an idiot,” I said.
“Not at all.”
“What happened?” Zach said.
“Mitch added just a little too much red pepper to the spaghetti.”
Zach came over and grabbed a fork, digging it into the pot of pasta.
“You don’t want to do that, hon—” I said, but a big forkful of noodles was already in his mouth.
“Oh God,” he said, his eyes going wide after he swallowed. His eyes started to water and he coughed a few times.
“I told you you didn’t want to do that.”
“I usually like spicy, but that is…” Zach trailed off. He ran to the fridge, pouring himself a glass of milk.
“I’m sorry,” I said to Evan. “Is there any way we can… fix it?”
He shook his head. “Not really. It’s gonna be a Chinese takeout kind of night.”
I looked at the clock on the wall. “I have to leave in fifteen minutes,” I said.
“I thought we were going to have dinner together,” Zach said. The first time Evan had come over to make dinner for us, Zach had said it was “weird” to have dinner with his teacher, but it became clear that he enjoyed it when Evan and him bonded over nerdy things and video games.
It killed me to see the obvious disappointment on Zach’s face now.
“It’s okay,” Evan said, shaking his head. “We’ll order the Chinese right now, and we’ll have a feast. There will be plenty of leftovers when you get home, Mitch. You can eat food at the bar to tide you over.”
“Are you sure?”
“Chinese does sound good,” Zach said, sauntering off into the living room as he stared down at his phone.
“We’ll be okay here. I’ll make sure he has a good dinner and goes to bed at a reasonable time,” Evan said.
“I feel like such an idiot,” I said.
“Well, you’re not,” he said. “You’re adorable, though. Now you know that all you need is a pinch of pepper.”
I puffed out a small laugh. “Now that sounds like something Red would make a joke about.”
Evan reached out and pinched me on my side, and I did it right back.
“You’re saving my ass way more often than I deserve, lately,” I told Evan.
“You deserve every moment of it,” he said. “Now go get ready.”
Work was busy as hell, and I didn’t check my phone the whole time. When I finally got off at two in the morning, I unlocked my phone to see a string of texts from Zach.
>>Zachie: Dude, Dad
>>Zachie: This Chinese food is awesome
>>Zachie: They make the orange chicken so much better than the place back in Chicago!!!
>>Zachie: We have to get this all the time now
Even that small amount of praise filled my heart with pride. It didn’t matter if it was a home-cooked meal or simple Chinese takeout. Zach was happy. And that was all I could ask for.
Well, I also had to teach him how to use punctuation, but that was a different battle.
I headed home and found Evan dozing on the living room couch with a history show on the TV. When I walked in, he woke up with a start.