Daddy Issues

18 - Cooking class

'Are you ready to find out what you'll be cooking?'

A couple of hours later, Dan has called us to the kitchen to start his cooking class. We burst into laughter as soon as we saw him. He had put on an incredibly tacky apron that said Mister good lookin is cookin. But we laughed too soon, because it turned out he got us aprons too. Mine says Queen of the Kitchen and Mel's says This is what an awesome cook looks like.

Now we've gathered around the kitchen island where Dan has hidden the ingredients he's laid out beneath a kitchen towel so he can do a dramatic reveal.

'As ready as we'll ever be,' I say, trying not to laugh.

'Good, get ready to make some...' he grabs the edges of the towel and waits a moment longer to build some more suspense.

'Butter chicken!'

'Oeh!' I exclaim.

'Your favorite, right?'

'Yes!'

Of course, I told him after we fixed the fence. I'm surprised he remembered. But maybe I shouldn't be at this point.

I would love some butter chicken. But looking at the array of ingredients stalled out before me, I have absolutely no idea where to begin.

'Don't look so worried,' Dan says. 'I'll help you along every step of the way. And you're lucky you've found yourself an assistant too.'

Mel smiles at him, clearly amused by all the dramatics. I asked Dan and Mel not to talk about what happened for the rest of the day anymore. I just want to put it out of my mind. I think he's making extra effort now to lift my spirits. Which is sweet. But I try very hard not to let it affect myself too much. I do not want to make things weird.

'Where's the chicken?' I ask after I've scanned all the ingredients. I may not know too much about cooking, but I know enough to guess that butter chicken would require chicken as an ingredient.

'Good question,' Dan says enthusiastically. Then he turns to the fridge and takes out a bowl.

'I've already done a little bit of work for you, because we needed to marinate the chicken for a couple hours. I'll tell you what I've done.'

Dan launches into a story about how he prepared the chicken and why it's important to let it marinate for several hours. Then he puts us to work. Mel cooks for herself all the time, so she happily starts chopping up some chilis, but I'm starting on the onions and I'm immediately challenged. As soon as I cut into the first one, the air turns spicy and my eyes start to water.

'Oh my God,' I say, sniffing and bless blinking rapidly. 'I can't see.'

'Oh shit,' Dan chuckles. 'You're a crier.'

'I'm not sure this is going to get me into cooking.'

I try to keep cutting, but through the tears streaming down my face, I really can hardly see a thing.

'You should leave the stem on,' Mel says. 'Grandma taught me that trick. It won't hurt your eyes as much.'

'It's too late for that,' I sniffle.

'Okay,' Dan says, coming up beside me to take the knife from my hand. 'Go wash your eyes out. I'll finish the onion.'

Keeping my face turned upward, I happily hand him the knife and rush upstairs to the bathroom. Shit, I'm a mess. I had redone my make-up a little after crying earlier. But now the mascara has run down my face again. With a sigh, I start to wipe it off. I don't feel like putting on new make-up again and both Dan and Mel have already seen me in worse states than this anyway, so who cares. A little voice inside my head tells me to look a little pretty for Dan, but I ignore it.