Her father’s death had left a giant hole on the parenting front. Being here was filling a well Amelia hadn’t realized had felt so empty for the past ten years since her father had died. And she intended to let that well fill with love and laughter for as long as she was here.
She was also filling the well of her stomach, and she was afraid her clothes weren’t going to fit by the time she left. It was a good thing they were only here for a couple of days. If she ate like this all the time, she’d have to get up in the mornings and start running with Flynn, and she wasn’t a runner.
Once breakfast was finished, they all took their plates into the kitchen and the guys did cleanup. She couldn’t quite get used to seeing that, but she had to admit she enjoyed watching Flynn, his brothers, his dad and his uncles do dishes and clean the kitchen. She made a mental note to train her sons—if she had any—early on how to clean a kitchen and do dishes. It was such an admirable trait.
“It is fun to watch them, isn’t it?” Aubry asked as she came up beside Amelia.
“It’s something you don’t see every day. Something I don’t see every day, anyway.”
“Oh, come on,” Mia said as she came up to lean against the counter on Amelia’s other side. “You’re a head chef. Surely you employ male staff who do dishes.”
“That’s different. In my personal world, this is unique. I’ve dated men—hell, I married one—who never once stepped foot in a kitchen, either to cook or to do the cleanup.”
Mia slanted a look of surprise at her. “Really?”
“Yes. I guess some men are still married to traditional gender roles.”
“I guess so.”
“Those men aren’t in this kitchen, obviously,” Harmony said. “And I for one am so grateful for that. Barrett is more than willing to wash dishes, do laundry and cook a meal.”
Aubry nodded. “My schedule is always so whacked out that it’s not like I’m home at five o’clock every night. And I don’t have to worry about him starving, because Tucker knows how to fix a meal for himself. And often I’ll come home after working a hellishly long shift at the hospital and he’ll have fixed something and left it in the fridge for me to warm up.”
“Aww, that’s so sweet,” Amelia said.
“It really is.”
“It makes me appreciate Flynn so much more because he does spend a lot of time not only in his kitchen, but also never has a problem mixing it up in mine, including the cleanup part.”
Aubry smiled. “That’s great.”
“If you all are going to continue to wax poetic about my brothers, I’m going to lose my breakfast,” Mia said. “Knock it off.”
Amelia laughed. “Sorry.”
“They are kind of atypical,” Harmony said.
“More like ass-holical,” Mia said. “But that’s my perspective because I grew up with them. I’ve seen them crack jokes about buttholes and B.O. and seen them shove things up their noses that you do not want to know about.”
Amelia looked over at Aubry and Harmony. “That does make Flynn seem a lot less attractive to me.”
Harmony grimaced. “I’m going to have to break up with Barrett and go home.”
Aubry nodded. “Agreed. I’m calling off the wedding right now.”
Tucker’s gaze shot up from where he was standing at the sink. “Wait. What did you just say?”
Aubry laughed. “He has very good hearing.” She looked over at Tucker. “Just joking around, babe.”
“You’d better be. We are getting married and you don’t get to change your mind.” Tucker scanned their group. “And quit talking to Mia.”
“He knows I know all his secrets.” Mia nodded and shot Tucker a knowing smile. “They all know that. I should start asking for money.”
“You really should,” Amelia said. “You could amass a small fortune.”
“It could be an amazing side business. Or source my future endeavors. I could call it Mia’s Extortion Fund.”
Aubry grinned. “I love this idea—and this wickedly smart entrepreneurial side of you, Mia.”
“Thank you, Aubry.”
Amelia nodded. “If you’re really smart you could double down by not only taking their money, but then selling their secrets to their girlfriends, fiancées, wives. Double the money.”
Mia turned to her. “That’s diabolical. And brilliant. I like this side of you, Amelia.”
Amelia shrugged, but had to fight back a laugh. “Thank you. And if you need a partner, just let me know.”
“I will.”
All joking aside, Amelia was very impressed with how thorough—and how quickly—the guys cleaned up the kitchen. Within twenty minutes they were out of the way so the women could all get in there and start cooking dinner.
Flynn stuck around to help, so they ended up having plenty of hands. Amelia, along with Anya, made several pies while the rest of the group concentrated on fixing side dishes. Before long it was steamy hot in the kitchen and Lydia turned on the air conditioner. Katrina had made sangria, so they were all sipping the cool drink and talking while they did their respective cooking tasks.
Amelia had slid the pies into the oven, so she took her glass of sangria and stepped outside on the front porch for a minute before diving into the next task.
Lydia came out soon after and sat beside Amelia on the porch swing.
“You work so quickly,” Lydia said. “It takes me hours just to make one pie, and you’ve done six.”
“I’m used to working fast because of the restaurant. And it’s all about having the ingredients laid out and the tasks in order in my head. Plus, it’s my job, so that makes it easier for me.”
“I imagine that’s true. Stuff that seems difficult for someone else is probably cake for you.”
“Well, I couldn’t walk into a courtroom and argue a case because that’s not my area of expertise. Whereas you probably watch all those courtroom dramas on television and roll your eyes at the lack of accuracy.”
Lydia laughed. “You have no idea. It’s so frustrating.”
“I’m sure it is.”
“How do you feel about the cooking shows on TV? Do they drive you crazy?”
“Some of them do if they’re all about dramatic effect with no substance. But a few are actually pretty good. If they can show the viewer the passion behind the cooking, and give them real world information on how to create something, then I’m all for it. I enjoy quite a few shows.”