the blender ready. As soon as he saw them, he rushed forward,
introducing himself. “I can make you whatever you want. I’m
&
nbsp; so excited that you’re here. Guests at last. I can put my
cooking skills to good use. I bake too. You name it. Anything.
Anything can and will be made at your request.”
Elva laughed and Amy was flustered and grinning as Jean
pumped both of her hands in a weird handshake that went on
and on. “I’m not rich or anything,” Amy said. “But can I offer
you a job in which you come live with us and work your
cooking magic and we repay you with lots and lots of
gratitude?”
“I wish, fair lady. I wish.”
Haley raised a brow. Apparently, Jean was quite a charmer.
She should have figured he would be. He was the first person
who had really made her feel welcome.
“I can make anything from liver pate to sandwiches,” Jean
assured them.
“Oh, sandwiches!” Elva said quickly, mock horror on her
face. “Not liver pate. Please, anything but that.”
“Or pizza,” Amy supplied. “Or pasta. Or anything you want
to make, really. We’re not fussy.”
“You’re staying for dinner, then?”
“We are!”
Jean clapped his hands. “This is excellent news. That means
snacks and lunch and then dinner, and dessert. I haven’t been
this excited in ages.”
“Don’t overextend yourself or get stressed,” Haley warned.
“We have simple tastes.”
Jean’s brow arched. “Don’t try to fool me, young lady. Your