I politely reminded Leo that glancing at his watch every twenty seconds while an eight-year-old peed was rude. Once the bowls and whisks came out, they got off to a great start. I planted myself in the corner with a book, catching a glimpse of my newly trimmed and highlighted hair in some of the stainless steel, and rolled my eyes. Talk about a waste of money. Even if I were attracted to Leo, I’d just seen him at his worst, and wouldn’t pursue it further. No way. “Wow,” Leo said, an hour later. I looked up from the book I was reading in the corner. Bowen was standing on a footstool in front of the stovetop, stirring a large pot of homemade caramel, while Leo watched him in awe. Leo had put a long white apron and tall chef’s hat on my son, and the white fabric of the apron pooled around his sneakers. “What?” I couldn’t help but smile. “It’s just that I picked making caramel because it’s pastry school 101.”
