Chapter 569

Caleb had been considering making things slightly more difficult for Debra, but seeing her disheveled appearance, he cleared his throat and said, “There’s nothing more I want to ask.” Before Debra could respond, he added, “Can you pick vegetables?”

“I can.”

Caleb lit up instantly. “Then come with me.”

He led Debra through the back door, down to the first-floor kitchen. It was enormous, built for preparing meals for dozens of people.

“Come on in,” Caleb waved her over excitedly. “I saw how hardworking you were earlier, pulling those weeds, so I’m going to let you in on a secret. Mr. Houston Sr. loves homemade food. I know you’re his future daughter-in-law. Do you know how to cook?”

“I do,” Debra replied.

Caleb beamed even brighter. “That’s great. You have no idea how long it’s been since Mr. Houston Sr. has had a home-cooked meal. Sure, the chef’s food is tasty, but there’s nothing like a meal made by family.”

As he chatted on, he asked, “So, what do you like to eat, child?”

“Sandwiches. I’m pretty good at making them.”

“Sandwiches? I love sandwiches too.” Caleb caught himself a moment too late. Realizing his slip-up, he quickly added, “I mean, Mr. Houston Sr. loves sandwiches. If you made him some, he’d be over the moon.”

“Well then, let me show you what I’ve got.”

Debra rolled up her sleeves, tying her hair up high with a ribbon. From mixing the dough to rolling it out and making the filling, she worked efficiently while Caleb helped in small ways. An hour later, her hands covered in flour, she wiped her face and put the sandwiches into the oven.

“They’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

“Who taught you how to make sandwiches?”

“When I was little, I learned from my parents.”

“And your parents…”

“They passed away.”

Their conversation turned casual, the air heavy with nostalgia. Caleb, after a moment of silence, finally spoke. “My son and daughter-in-law are gone too.”

Debra paused, hands still on the plate she was preparing. Caleb continued, “But I still have a grandson. He’s just like me, almost too much like me.” A flicker of sadness clouded his eyes.

Debra interrupted softly, “Sir, the sandwiches are done.”

“Good.”

“Want to try one?”

“Of course.”

Caleb eagerly nodded. Debra scooped out the sandwiches and put them on a plate.

“How is it?”

“Delicious. These are the best sandwiches I’ve had in decades.”

“So, did I pass your test?”

“You passed.”

Caleb’s words caught in his throat. He looked up, only to be met by Debra’s sly smile. Before he could react, the kitchen door burst open.

Marjon stood in the doorway, his face dark and stormy. Caleb’s heart skipped a beat. Debra was stunned. “Marjon? What are you doing here?!”