Leslie and Mary had been pleasantly surprised with the homemade breakfast. I had walked in with the towel wrapped dish to keep in the heat and orange juice I had stopped and bought at the small store down the street.
Mary had jumped up when she saw my arms full of items. “What did you bring?”
“Didn’t you notice I didn’t call about breakfast?” I laughed.
Leslie cleared a spot on the table near the window. “Yes, we were just talking about going out to get something to eat.”
I met Mary’s eyes. She rolled them and continued on as though nothing had been said. That meant that Leslie had said that obviously I would not be as kind and attentive as she had been and grab them anything to eat. She’d have to save the day again. Well, I showed her up. I didn’t do fast food. I did real food.
A laugh nearly escaped me as I watched her uncover the frittata and give it a hard stare. Then I waited to see what she would have to say.
“What is this?”