If she thought about it, this was like a game, potion making if you will. The constant boil and cooling, making sure everything was at the perfect temperature so it was just right. And with the smell coming from the bubbling pots and pans she could understand why many called cooking an art.
But if she didn’t think about it she realised how shit this was. Four pots covered her stove not to mention the bowl and stacks of jam jars that covered every surface of the kitchen and disgusting gloop seemed to follow them wherever they were sticking to her lovely clean worktops and somehow her ceiling.
Oh well it would give her something to do tomorrow.
She stepped back from the steaming concoction she was making and huffed as if she had been running. Her forehead was certainly sweating, perhaps this was a workout. Though, she was sure there was so much evaporated sugar in the air that it would give her diabetes.
She sighed, there was no turning back now. She wiped her forehead and felt cold jelly stick to it. Shit.
The door opened and shut.
“Honey I’m – oh…”
Dan surveyed the kitchen while she refused to look back.
“So,” he said slowly, “did we have too many strawberries?”
“Yep, and apples and gooseberries.”
“I’m not even sure I know what a gooseberry is.”
She tittered, stirring one of her pots again as Dan backed out.
“You need to get a job!” he called out as he ran up the stairs.
“Are you hiring?” she called back.