Entry tags:
September 5th
It's a year today since Danny turned up in Darrow and subsequently turned Mindy's newfound life in the city upside down.
It's a date that she intends to find some way to celebrate. Or, at least, make a little more positive than a reminder of the moment he left everything he knew behind, maybe forever.
He'd done the same for her, after all, bringing her New York. Which had been incredibly sweet, of course, until she'd tried to kiss him and then her hair had caught on fire and everything had been absolutely awkward and the worst.
This? This she plans to go a little better. Or hopes. Was hoping until she settled on making him a homecooked meal that is not going well at all. She'd watched at least two tutorials on YouTube for making the perfect pasta, but she's pretty sure she's got the quantities wrong and it's pure mush.
Mindy can already picture Danny aggressively praying for Jesus or Mary or the Pope's forgiveness the moment he catches sight of her Italian atrocity, if it is even worthy of that title at all. She's had better frozen meals, better hospital cafeteria meals, and she's starting to think that she should have made her famous saag paneer with mac and cheese powder instead.
But Danny's due over any minute and she's got to serve something, she'd zeroed out her fridge last night after an especially exhausting day at work. She's starting to consider faking it with takeout when she remembers that there's garlic bread in the oven – storebought, who can tell the difference? – only as she opens it to a face full of smoke and the blaring of her smoke alarm.
"Oh, hell no."
It's a date that she intends to find some way to celebrate. Or, at least, make a little more positive than a reminder of the moment he left everything he knew behind, maybe forever.
He'd done the same for her, after all, bringing her New York. Which had been incredibly sweet, of course, until she'd tried to kiss him and then her hair had caught on fire and everything had been absolutely awkward and the worst.
This? This she plans to go a little better. Or hopes. Was hoping until she settled on making him a homecooked meal that is not going well at all. She'd watched at least two tutorials on YouTube for making the perfect pasta, but she's pretty sure she's got the quantities wrong and it's pure mush.
Mindy can already picture Danny aggressively praying for Jesus or Mary or the Pope's forgiveness the moment he catches sight of her Italian atrocity, if it is even worthy of that title at all. She's had better frozen meals, better hospital cafeteria meals, and she's starting to think that she should have made her famous saag paneer with mac and cheese powder instead.
But Danny's due over any minute and she's got to serve something, she'd zeroed out her fridge last night after an especially exhausting day at work. She's starting to consider faking it with takeout when she remembers that there's garlic bread in the oven – storebought, who can tell the difference? – only as she opens it to a face full of smoke and the blaring of her smoke alarm.
"Oh, hell no."