“What are you doing?” Amelia asked.

“I am learning the kitchen,” I answered.

She giggled. “You’re silly. It’s a kitchen. You don’t have to learn it.”

“I do if I’ve never been in it before.” I stood up and pointed to a row of cabinets. “Now I could ask you which one has the glasses in it, and you’d be able to point and show me.”

She nodded.

“But if you were to ask me which one has glasses, right now, I’d have to guess because I haven’t looked at that row of cabinets yet. I’ve only looked at this side. And these cupboards have spices and big, fancy serving plates.”

Her eyes went wide, and her little mouth made a circle.

“I’m learning to find where the glasses and the spoons are and which cabinet has the pots and the pans and the things I’m going to need.”

“What are you going to need?” she asked.

“Everything.” I laughed. “I’m going to cook for you.”

“I can make popcorn,” Amelia said.

“You can? That’s fantastic.”

“You talk like Mrs. Brennan.”

“Who’s Mrs. Brennan?” I asked.

“She’s my teacher,” Amelia told me.

“You’re old enough to be in school, then,” I said.

That explained her precise use of language.

“Where do you go to school?”

She couldn’t be above the second grade. She was so small.

“I go to Leeds Academy.”

Leeds. Hmm, the ‘competition’. At least everyone at Wentworth spoke about Leeds as if they were some kind of evil empire or sports rivals. Neither place had sports teams since they wereelementary schools. Leeds teachers were probably given proper Christmas bonuses.

I wasn’t convinced that Wentworth was as pleasant a place as everybody there seemed to think it was, especially the headmaster. As far as I was concerned, based on my experience with Wentworth Academy, everyone at Wentworth was delusional.

“What happens after you learn the kitchen? Will there be a quiz?”

“Not exactly. After I get an idea where everything is, then I’m going to make a shopping list, then I’m going to figure out what I’m making for lunch and dinner. And then I’m going to make a shopping list and go shopping.”

I looked at the kid. What was I going to do with her when I went shopping? I guess I’d make sure her father knew she was around before I left.

“We have all kinds of food in the refrigerator.” She opened the door to the expansive refrigerator.

It was the kind that I had only ever seen in magazines of very elaborate, expensive houses. So, it made perfect sense that it was the kind of refrigerator Bryan had in his kitchen. I had become enamored of it the evening before.

It wasn’t particularly deep, which meant that food wouldn’t get lost in the back, but it was wide, easily two to three times as wide as a standard refrigerator. It was lovely how I could see everything that was available. Which to be honest, wasn’t very much. It was as if his regular cook knew that if she left too much fresh food, it would go to waste.

There were two casserole dishes that I noticed with handwritten notes taped to them. A quick glance let me know that those were cooking instructions. She hadn’t left him completely bereft of meals. They were pretty sizable casserole dishes, so maybe two dinners each. Still, that wasn’t even a week’s worth of food.

“What’s your favorite thing to eat, Amelia?” I asked, figuring it would be good to get information right from the source.