“Darn good chili,”Dane said, finishing his third bowl. “Great cornbread, too. Good job, Dyma. Who knew feminists could cook this good?”
Oh, boy. This was going to go great, Owen could tell.
“Now, there’s a comment I wouldn’t have made,” his dad said. “Cruisin’ for a bruisin’, son.”
“What’s femi- … femi- …?” Matt asked.
“Girls who think they have to be like boys,” Dane said, “because being a girl isn’t good enough.”
“Annnnddd there’s another one,” Amy said. “Ignore him, Dyma. No,” she told Matt, “that’s not what it is. It’s people—girlsorboys—who think that women can do lots of things people used to think only boys could do. Like drive cars, or rope steers, or what Dyma does, which is learning to design rockets.”
“You know how to designrockets?”Ethan asked.
“Not yet,” Dyma said, with a pretty admirable display of cool, “but I’m learning. And thanks for the compliment, Dane. Owen and I cooked this together, actually, so it’s his compliment, too. We needed to do something easy, because we went riding today and spent a little too much time.”
“Yeah,” Dane said. “I noticed that. Nice to be the boss. But I guess since you have to go home soon, back to your real life and all, he’s entitled to a little extra.”
“Gee, thanks,” Owen said.
Dyma said, “I’ve got something even more mind-boggling for you, Dane, besides that Owen would cook with me. There’s no meat in there.”
Cue the fireworks.
Dane looked down at his bowl, then up again. “Yeah, there is. Hamburger, right here.”
“Nope.” She crossed her arms and leaned forward on the table. Ethan opened his mouth, probably to tell her that wasn’t allowed, and Owen saw Amy poke him. “There isn’t. That’s fake meat.”
He stopped chewing, and Owen could see the moment when he decided to swallow the bite instead of spitting it out. “Why?” he finally asked.
“Because I’m a vegetarian.”
“Yeah,” he said, “but we’re not.”
“Which is why,” she said, “we decided to go on and do the meat-substitute thing, so you’d enjoy it more. I was originally planning on cooking you a vegetarian Indian feast, but Ididplay hooky with Owen today, and I didn’t have time. I’d bought this meat substitute, fortunately, and stuck it in the freezer, so … there we were! I wasn’t going to tell you. It was just the feminism crack. Couldn’t resist, sorry. That also makes meextremelyhappy that Owendidmake this with me and sign onto my subversion, because I’m ornery like that.” She gave him a cheery smile, took her elbows off the table, and grabbed another piece of cornbread.
“Uh …” Dane said, “you’re on acattleranch?”
Could Owen have stepped in? Yeah, he could. He had to admit, though, he wanted to see where this would go. Probably why his parents weren’t saying anything, either.
“Yep,” she said. “I sure am. And I’m still not cooking meat.”
“Guess it’s a good thing Owen’s not marrying you, then,” Dane said. “I can just imagine how greatthatwould go.”
All right. Time to say something. He’d opened his mouth to do it, and Dyma said, “Oh? Has he been confiding his plans to you? Are we breaking up? Owen, you should’ve said. How crushing to learn it like this.” She was laughing. Bad sign. This was getting dangerous.
“Stop now,” he told Dane. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with here. Back away.”
“OK,” Amy said, standing up. “I’d help with the dishes, but you know what? Bath time. Boys, clear your places, please.”
“But we were supposed to play pool!” Ethan said. Amy fixed him with the Stare of Death, and he shut up and cleared his place. With a heavy sigh, but what could you expect? He was eight.
Owen’s mom stood up, but Owen said, “No. Stay. No reason everybody has to rush off.”
“I’m taking the boys home,” Amy said, in the firm way she did tend to say things when Dane crossed the line.
“That’s fine,” Owen said. “Thanks for coming over, Ame.” He helped her clear the table, and everybody else pretty much just sat there. Dyma and Dane seemed to be engaged in some sort of staring contest. Again, his money was on Dyma.
The boys left, and Owen grabbed a few cartons of ice cream, plunked them down on the table, went back for bowls and spoons, and said, “Bachelor dessert. And before Dane says anything, that’s because Dyma and I are bachelors, and we didn’t feel like making dessert today. We felt like riding up to the lake instead. Just be glad she isn’t vegan, bro. You got sour cream and cheese, didn’t you? You’re getting ice cream, too.”