Darren and Richard | By : Leneanna Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Savage Garden Views: 1741 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Savage Garden. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
We had my close friends Pete and Nancy over for dinner. Had to try out this recipe I found. I made it for Darren the other day, and he loved it. It was roast beef marinated in red wine, but I threw in a few extra touches. Marinated it overnight. Of course, I didn’t think their 6-year-old would like it, so I made her mac and cheese, which no kid can resist. I hadn’t seen them in several months, so when Nancy took her coat off, surprise! They’re 6 months pregnant, and it’s a boy. I never expected what they said next: They want to name him Cullen Andrew Martin, and they asked Darren and me to be godparents. Wow. No one’s ever as much as named a dog after me, let alone their child. I feel all warm and fuzzy. You know how expectant mothers are funny about food smells? Apparently not Nancy.
“What are you making, Rich? It smells heavenly.”
“Do you want a fancy name for it, or just the basics? You do eat meat, right Luv?”
She laughs.
“Don’t you? How do you think I got this way in the first place?”
Darren, who is lifting the lid on every pot on the stove to have a sniff, cracks up.
“Of course he does. Every night. Right, Rich?”
“You’re a pig, Darren.”
“But you love me anyway, don’t you, Darling?”
I roll my eyes.
“Taste this, Darren. Tell me what you think.”
“Oh my God, that’s so good!”
“He said that last night too,” I joke.
They laugh.
“What’s in it?”
“Red wine, onions, bit of this, bit of that.”
“I don’t like onions!”, Daphne pipes up.
“I know you don’t, Sweetheart. That’s why I made you mac and cheese. You like that, don’t you?”
She nods.
“Good. Why don’t you ask Darren to set up the slide show from our trip to Australia?”
“What’s a slide show?”
“It’s like looking at photographs, except on the computer. He’ll show you.”
So D keeps them occupied while I finish dinner. I must confess to feeling a bit smug watching them dive into my creation like they hadn’t eaten in weeks. Poor
Wally sat in the dining room doorway, salivating. Oh please, it’s not like Darren doesn’t slip him treats at every opportunity. And then he wonders why the dog is stinking us out with atrocious gas. Poor thing can’t digest people-food. There is no nutritional need in the canine diet for stir-fried Chinese food, but that’s an argument I’ve long since given up trying to win.
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