Chapter 14

It had been over a month since I'd started staying with Pauline and Owen. During these very weeks I had gotten so close to one of them, that one being Pauline of course. Owen on the other hand was a hard shell to crack. No matter how hard I tried to start up a civil conversation he'd always throw in some comment or ignore me completely.

I recall once having had walked in on him having breakfast in the kitchen. The thought of talking to him hadn't crossed my mind till my mouth opened up.

"Where's Mrs James?" I heard myself ask and I knew that getting an answer from him would be as easy as asking a wall for directions. Not. So to say I was astonished when he responded would have been an understatement.

"She went out with her friends for their afternoon tea or something." He said chewing on some corn flakes. It must have been his favourite cereal for him to actual talk to me. Maybe having a bowl of the cereal around each time I tried to talk to him would be a great idea. "She says sitting around the house only makes her older."

Okay...so that just happened. He spoke of his own free will which only happened once in blue moon and today just so happened to be the first. I quickly snapped out of my trance and tried to have him say more.

"But she's only like what? Fifty? So she's not that old."

He dropped his spoon and gave me a bewildered look, What are you talking about? She's almost seventy."

"What?" I questioned. "I thought she was maybe in her late fifties."

"What made you think that?" He asked still as confused, if not more.

I shrugged, "Has she had any cosmetic surgery done?"

"To what? Get more wrinkles?!" He exclaimed with his hands raised in frustration. "You know what, I'm out of here."

"Where are you going?"

He ignored my question and just walked out with a jacket in hand and slammed the door. We were back to zero it seemed.

That was longest conversation we'd had and my inability to look closely and make good estimations was what brought about zero progress. I seriously didn't even know what made me think what I thought about her age.

**********

It was a Sunday and Mrs. James, after coming back from Church, had gone out to play Bingo. I had come to learn more about the family during my stay. One was that Pauline loved to bake. A lot. If she wasn't out with her friends, she'd usually make a feast enough to feed five grown men.

I wasn't complaining because the woman could make more than just a decent meal. I made sure to be around and help her out when she was cooking so that I could learn a thing or two from her.

The kitchen was empty and the thought of cooking for everyone crossed my mind. I was trying to get a pot from atop the cabinet but it was a little too high to reach.

"What are you doing?" A voice came from behind me. I jumped a foot high in the air and let out something that sounded like a screech. My right hand automatically made its way to my chest as if to calm my racing heart down. After making sure my heart was beating in its normally, I turned and faced Owen.

"Are you trying to kill me?!" I all but shouted.

"Did it work?"

"What do you think genius?"

"I asked you a question." He walked over to the fridge before taking a bottle of water and gulping half of it.

"I'm trying to cook."

"I didn't know we had any pets."

"What do you mean b-" but then it dawned on me that he was actually insulting my cooking skills, "I'll have you know that I'm more than cable of cooking human food."

"Poor humans." He commented and finished his bottle of water.

"I'm not that bad when it comes to cooking," I said defensively and crossed my arms over my chest.

"I'd like to see you try," he smirked.

"I was just about to do that," I unfolded my arms and went back to my prior task of trying to get the pots.

"Not so fast." I turned back to him with confusion clearly written all over my face, "You might know how to cook a certain meal but that doesn't mean you can cook every meal."

"Oh yeah? Try me."

"Lasagne," he stated and sat by the island on one of the stools, facing me. "And just to make sure that you don't try to fool me, I'll sit right here."

"Get comfortable."

I took some ground beef, béchamel sauce, ricotta cheese, lasagne noodles, tomato sauce and some mozzarella cheese and got to work. After I was done with the layering, I carefully placed the lasagne pot in the oven and set the timer and heat.

Forty five minutes later, I took out the lasagne from the oven and cut out two pieces, before placing them on Owen's and my plate. I brought out two forks and handed one to him.

"Well?" I all but waited with baited breath.

"I'll only comment when I'm done." he said putting a fork full of lasagne in his mouth.

It was only after he had finished his food that I realised that he was only using me to cook what he wanted to eat. And I fell for it.