I felt myself flush with anger. “I don’t know.”
An hour later, I said I had to take a break.
“A cooking break,” Marla replied, “if I know you.”
“Is that so terrible?”
“No, go.”
In the kitchen, I noticed that Julian had thawed and drained some frozen chopped spinach. I decided that even though I’d told Tom I wouldn’t be cooking for the business that day, I would feel better if I did a little experimentation. Say with a hot spinach dip? Marla could deal with a few carbs, couldn’t she? After Julian said he’d thawed the spinach to make a dip recipe he’d found for me on the Internet, I stared at what he’d printed out and decided to make a few changes. First I minced garlic and grated fontina and Parmigiano-Reggiano. Once the garlic was sizzling slowly in melted butter, I snagged cream chee
