Kiernan and Montana aren't looking for complicated in their Chicago summer, but somehow complicated has found them.
[co-written with @w1ldflow3r]
[extended summary inside]
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My entire apartment smelled like chicken.
I wasn't sure how surprising or not it was that Jed was the better chef of the two of us. Despite my more meticulous nature and his complete lack thereof, food worked in his favor almost always, including tonight when he swore he would figure out how to make this chicken casserole dish he saw on Instagram. I didn't mind though - my cooking skills stopped at turkey sandwiches and mac and cheese.
"I can't believe you purchased your broccoli from Whole Foods. That's so elitist," Em remarked, aware that I oversaw the grocery shopping tonight. She eyed the wooden cutting board with remnants of chopped-up broccoli, which Jed had left on the island in front of us.
As per one of our many three's a crowd traditions, Em joined us for dinner once a month at our apartment, though because of the uptick in action for the campaign, we'd had trouble picking a day this past month. August was almost over.
"It's organic," I pointedly corrected. "And we're supporting Illinois farmers."
"We're supporting Illinois farmers," Em mimicked. "How righteous of you. You'd fit right in with the campaign staff."
"Thank you very much," I nodded as I took a sip of my wine, ignoring the sarcastic undertones of her comment.
The sound of Jed's handheld electronic mixer interrupted me and Em's vocal sparring. She raised an eyebrow at me as Jed intently gripped his mixing bowl with a floral oven mitt clad hand.
"Don't ask," I rubbed the side of my temple with my finger. "He takes this far too seriously."
Em laughed. "Where'd you get the mitts Jed? Anthropologie?"
"Hey, they were a gift from one of my students," Jed snapped back, setting the metal mixing bowl down on the kitchen island. "Also, Anthropologie has a great home section."
"That's true," Em conceded. "I love their coasters. You should put them on your holiday wish list for all of the adoring parents of your students."
"We don't need coasters," I held a hand up before Jed would undoubtedly agree with Em. "Can we just get back to the debate at hand? Do you or do you not think we need to bench Nix for Summers? He threw three picks."
"Do I look like an offensive coordinator to you?" Em clapped her hands to her bright green utility shirt. "We won. That's all that matters."
"Not in college football," I insisted. "Right Jed?"
Jed glanced at us from over his broad shoulder, still bent over in front of the oven. "What did you say?"
Em intercepted the conversation. "He said thank god I missed out on your little football reunion before the game. Davis has always been such a meathead, despite his nice head of hair."
