perfect recipe (7)

Damien leaned back in his chair, letting her words sink in. Was that what he’d been chasing? The taste of the sauce, or the comfort of those long-ago Sunday dinners? “But,” Lucille said, breaking his thoughts, “I suppose we should still try to make the sauce. After all, it’s no good without love and effort.”

“Finally,” Damien muttered, though he couldn’t help but smile. She stood, her energy seemingly endless for someone her age. “Let’s get to work. But first, there’s one more thing I need you to grab.”

Damien groaned. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” “Nope,” she said cheerfully. “Go down to the cellar and bring up a jar of my canned tomatoes. None of that store-bought nonsense you’ve been using.” With a sigh, Damien made his way to the cellar.