Chapter 8

After staying there for a year, it was looking lived-in and cozy, and—if Del was honest with himself—a little rundown in a few places. He didn’t have the energy for the upkeep for an old, sprawling 3,000-square-foot house. He needed to hire someone, but somehow, he hadn’t.

He told himself that he was focusing on the cookbook right now, but that wasn’t exactly true. He still felt unanchored after leaving Clyde and Trim behind, like he was just drifting through life.

Paul’s words rang in his mind. What did he really want from life?

Right now, he didn’t know, so he soldiered on, trying to come up with new ways to spin some old recipes for fine dining food that could be made at home. Trim had been a success because of him. Hell, just before he’d left, there had been murmurings of a Michelin star in the imminent future.