Chapter 19: Sunday Family Lunch

“Damn, I hope it’s not burned,” I grumble as I pull the homemade lasagna from the oven.

I sniff it, taking in the cheesy and tomato smell. No, it’s perfect. I’m still a bit put out that despite my parents wanting me to have lunch at their house every Sunday, I’m still expected to make lunch from scratch and bring it.

Not that I don’t love my parents, it’s just that I’ve had a long week, and cooking something to their liking means buying organic ingredients from the nice grocery store.

I put on a nice blouse and my good jeans while the lasagna cools and remind myself to also grab the apple crumble I picked up from the bakery across town.

My parents still think I bake, but in reality, I can’t stand it.

My phone buzzes a few times in a row and I wince before grabbing it.

I don’t know why, but I hope that it’s from Roxy. Maybe even from Donovan.

[From Mom

|Sun 11:27am

|Hello Dear,

|Pls don’t be late

|your father had a bad week.

|did you bake the lasagna the way he likes?