Five Days

Day Three

Credits due to Pascal Campion Art for the header pic. Thank you Sir 😊❤️
Fiction.
Disclaimer: Fully and all disclaimed.

⚠️[Warning!! SPG entries ahead. If you are below 16, please skip this. If your sensibilities are offended by these types, please do not read. Thank you.]

*******ALDUBPARIN****************

I watched her valiantly try to chew the rubbery piece of steak I grilled and couldn't help but wince when I noticed how difficult it was for her to swallow it.
I almost threw my hands up in disgust when she tried to force a smile on her face after taking a long drink of her red wine to help the meat go down. I think I fell even more inlove with Maine when she smacked her lips with pretend gusto and complimented my horrible cooking.

"Mmmm, that was umm, really good Alden. You got the seasonings just right, perfect!"

She helped herself to some more mashed potatoes, the only food I actually got right. Yes, I am not quite so hopeless after all, between the rubbery steak and the watery gravy, the potatoes came out creamy and delicious. The dinner I had promised Maine turned out to be a disaster, and I so wanted it to be perfect. I had imagined a feast of well done steaks, fluffy mashed potatoes with gravy, boiled corn slathered in butter and mint chocolate chip ice cream with chocolate sauce for dessert.

The fact that I didn't know how to turn on the grill should have been warning enough, but a promise was a promise. It went downhill from there, it took me half an hour to turn on the damn grill, too many freakin' knobs to twist and push and rotate. Even the gravy that was already in a packet I managed to mess up, all I had to do was add water and heat it up but dammit, it looked so unappetizing so I decided to add a bit more water...and then some. At least there was still ice cream to look forward to later on.

Maine hesitated over a sliced piece of meat, I saw her visibly gulp, like she was fortifying herself for a difficult ordeal coming up. I sighed, took pity on her and took her fork as well as the deadly steak away from her.

"What did you do that for?" She grumbled. "I was eating."

I took our plates to the sink and threw away the leftovers, "No, you weren't eating, you were punishing yourself."

She followed, carrying with her the gravy dish. "It was good. I don't know what you're talking about."

I narrowed my eyes at her, my stare demanding she tell the truth.
"Okay, so it was really bad, maybe even horrible. At least you tried."

"The food was disgusting." I said honestly. "If I had a dog, it probably wouldn't even eat it."

We set about washing the dishes, she soaped and rinsed while I dried and placed them in the cabinet.

"At least you didn't burn it, it could be worse."

"Yeah," I laughed, finding some humor in what could have been, "You could've cooked!"

I was too busy chuckling at my own joke I didn't see Maine frown. One minute I was laughing my ass off, the next I had water dripping down my face. Maine stood next to me giggling softly.

I counted to three to calm myself down, I was afraid I'd do something rash like take the spigot and spray her down, I didn't another repeat of what happened earlier.

I was afraid she'd have me do the laundry next.
So I counted in French-- une...deux...trois...quatre...cinq...

She continued to giggle softly even as she made soap bubbles, French didn't work so I switched to Spanish-- uno...dos...tres...