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[handandahalf]

In an effort to equalize the distribution of work at home, Jon had undertaken a project : he was teaching himself to cook.

Actually, he reflected, a more accurate description would be that he was trying to teach himself to cook.

It had begun a few weeks ago, when the bookshelf had offered him row upon row of a book called The Joy of Cooking. It

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[broken_brushes]

I'd come into the kitchen to check on a batch of muffins to find That Guy Who Looked Like Dr. Garrigan (Seen many times but never introduced) covered with something that might have been sauce and cursing at the stove. Quietly, I opened one of the cupboards, drew out a clean hand towel, and passed it over.

"This is why I always correct people when they assume I'm good at cooking," I remarked with a sympathetic smile.

[handandahalf]

"My thanks," Jon replied, his expression grave except for the slight tilt of a smile at the side of his mouth. "I'm little better than a novice here... apparently I've not yet discovered the joys of cooking," he concluded wryly, nodding to the recipe book sitting on the counter beside the stove. His hands mostly clean, he retied his hair at the nape of his neck and turned off the heat beneath the pot. "Think I'll just leave that sit for now... would you like anything?" he asked over his shoulder as he went toward the icebox for a drink.

[broken_brushes]

"I'm good, thanks," I replied with a smile and brief lift of my chin his way. I couldn't tell you why I bothered peering into the pot; sure, Joe had been teaching me a little about cooking, but I was far from an expert. "Maybe it needs more flour?" I suggested as I pushed the spoon around in the liquid, and then laughed, glancing back over my shoulder. "Or someone else to make it."

[handandahalf]

Jon laughed, reaching all the way in for the pitcher of iced tea. "That, I think, is nearer the mark," he admitted, getting a glass from the cabinet. "I haven't botched them all so badly, but there does seem to be some variation in how easy it is to have it all come out according to the book."

[broken_brushes]

"Isn't gravy supposed to be really hard to get right?" I asked, giving up on the spoon and leaning back against the adjacent counter. "I seem to remember hearing that, although I couldn't tell you where." Mrs. Parrish, probably. "What were you making it for?"

[handandahalf]

"I've no idea," Jon admitted. "Before I began this madness," he gestured to the pots, "the only cooking I knew was the kind one does while traveling. Bloodier, but I never expected it to be easier." He grinned ruefully. "I was hoping to be of a little more assistance to my wife at home. Our son is a year old and just started walking... and we thought we had our hands full before this," he said with a wry little grin.