andhiswife | (Reply)

"Oh, he wasn't." Greta had made her best guesses when she was writing down the recipe, mindful of the possibility that she wouldn't be the only one taking a crack at it. It's possible that she's got some of the amounts off by a touch, but not enough to ruin things, going by the smell. "I had to do some translating, but I think I landed near enough the mark."

After another sip of wine, she adds, "You do make a fine sous chef." If she's being honest, though, it's the camaraderie she enjoys more than the practical assistance. It reminds her of home, a little, the two of them working in tandem to get something done.

And it's doubly enjoyable when Saoirse gets in on the action. The lass is probably upstairs doing homework or something. Greta looks down at Sadie and asks, "Where is that girl of mine?" only semi-rhetorically, and the dog perks up her ears before trotting off, on a mission.

She considers Thomas's question for the time it takes her to pull in a slow breath, then let it out again. "Better," she replies. "A little relieved, even. I'd probably be going round the twist right now if I had to do something next week besides show up." A solid six days of relative normalcy before she has to face the cameras again sounds quite nice, actually.