Finding A New Purpose Chapter 3

I'd found a butcher on the corner, and there was a quaint grocery store a few blocks past a park from Mike's place. The access to fresh ingredients was a godsend. During the morning after Mike took off, I would go for a walk down the local stores, and spend my afternoon brushing up on my cooking skills. Mike seemed grateful each evening when he could smell dinner being cooked when he walked through the door.

"This sure is nice," He said one evening, sitting down to a roast I'd cooked for him. "I didn't really expect this when you said you'd cook. Rachel never got too fancy, she would just throw something quick in the microwave or whatever. I don't know, I didn't pay attention. It wasn't all that good."

"Well, I need something to do during the day," I admitted. It was nice to hear his praise though. "I think my bosses severely underestimated my skills when they hired me. I think they expected the work they needed me to do to be complicated. I guess it probably is to them, but to me, it's like tying my shoes." I laughed to myself. I certainly made way too much money for what I was doing, but I wasn't about to tell them that.

"You could clean, if you're really that bored," Mike said. I couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

"What, you want me to play maid, too?" I quipped.

"Does that mean you'd wear one of those French maid get-ups?" His eyes widened at the thought.

"No," I said quickly. "But, I guess I could clean every once in awhile if I have nothing else to do." I didn't mind all that much. My Mom had always made me do chores since, well, since I could remember.

"Maybe you shouldn't wear anything then," he said, shoving a piece of roast into his mouth.

"Ha, right," I said, staring down at my plate.

"What?" He replied. "Pass me the potatoes."

"You can't be serious."

"...The potatoes are good?" Mike said, slightly confused.