She beat Garrett to the kitchen door.
He took a quick trip to the sink in the utility room to wash up and then followed his nose into the kitchen. Two places were set at the small table, as prettily set as he could ever remember his mother doing for special meals. Dan had found the good china, the stemmed glasses, and the matching set of tableware. Garrett skidded to a halt.
“Holy mackerel! Look at this. What’s the occasion? Is it somebody’s birthday or something?”
Dan actually blushed, a ruddy stain coloring his tanned face. “Nah, nothing like that. Did I do wrong to get out the good dishes and stuff? I just saw it and everything looked so nice. I wanted this to be a special meal, my way to start saying thanks for all you’ve done for me. I really can cook. I told you, it’s what I was planning to do for a career.”
“Well, the smells say you did a bang-up job. What are we having?”