Notes: Thanks to Mari and Sammy for the inspiration, laughter, and enthusiasm every day.

Thanks to Esther for your continued friendship and help with your fictional counterpart's dialogue :-)

Thanks to all our readers and REAL McRollers for your amazingly generous support. It is truly appreciated!

Hope you enjoy!

Cooking Up Memories (A McRoll in the REAL World Story)

After an extended afternoon play session outside, Esther was just bringing Cammie in through the back door as Catherine came in through the front. The excited dog headed straight for Catherine while Esther closed the back door and called out, "Hi! You're home early."

"Yeah," Catherine said, kneeling to greet Cammie. "I was at Jacob's school this afternoon, and since we didn't have anything big going at work, I decided to come get a few things done around the house."

Esther came into the living room. "Oh, I should get out of your way then."

"No, no. Don't rush off," Catherine said immediately. She stood to face her friend and dog-sitter while Cammie trotted into the kitchen for a much needed drink. "We haven't hung out in a while. How are you doing?"

"I'm good," Esther said, smiling.

"How's your writing? What are you working on now?"

"I'm nearly done with the second book of the trilogy."

"Really?" Catherine asked, impressed.

"Yeah. I managed to put in some characters I had taken out of the first book." Esther grinned. "They won't be erased from existence after all!"

Catherine laughed at that. "That's great. I'm excited to read it."

"You'll be one of the first. I promise."

"Excellent," Catherine said, her smile genuine.

Esther paused and took a deep breath, biting her lip.

"Actually, Catherine, I'm glad you're here," she said. "There's something I wanted to ask you about."

"Sure. Do you want to sit down?" Catherine offered, motioning to the sofa.

Esther glanced at it and blinked. "Oh, yes," she said and gave a little laugh. "Thanks."

Catherine gestured for her to have a seat and then sat on the sofa at an angle so they could face each other. She smiled encouragingly. "Okay. Shoot."

Esther sighed with a self-conscious smile. "It's about . . . Kamekona."

Catherine's smile widened. "Oh yeah? Things are still good, I take it?"

"Yeah," Esther said, blushing faintly and smiling. "Things are really good."

"I'm glad," Catherine said sincerely. "So what did you want to ask me about?"

Esther continued, wringing her hands slightly. "I . . . had this idea . . ."

"Okay . . .?" Catherine prompted when Esther's voice trailed off.

"See, he cooks for me a lot . . . I love his food."

Catherine chuckled. "I remember."

"And I thought maybe I could cook something for him."

"That sounds like a great idea."

"The problem is . . . everything he makes is so good. And I don't really cook. I mean, I bake pretty well–"

"I can attest to that," Catherine said and licked her lips at the memory of Esther's coconut cupcakes.

"But I don't cook anything too complicated. Home Ec classes back in middle school scared me with the food poisoning videos masquerading as 'kitchen safety'." Esther gave an embarrassed laugh at her admission. "I have some lingering issues there."

Catherine chuckled sympathetically. "I remember those videos. A little intense for 7th grade."

"And I know you're a really good cook. So I thought maybe you'd have an idea for something I could make. A recipe. Something that's not too hard."

Catherine nodded. "I have a lot of recipes." She smiled, and there was the twinkle of inspiration in her eyes. "And I also have an idea for you."

"What?" Esther asked, straightening in curiosity.

"You two should cook together."

"Together?"

"Yeah, it's fun," Catherine said. She smiled knowingly. "Romantic."

"You and Steve cook together?" Esther asked, interested.

Catherine nodded. "All the time. We have for years." She smiled to herself and added, "Sometimes more successfully than others."

"Hmm?"

Catherine smiled at her. "We have a tendency to get . . . distracted."

"Oh . . ." Esther began, confused, then her eyes widened in realization. "Oh!" She blushed, but was smiling. "Enough said."

"Cook dinner together," Catherine said definitively. "It's a very romantic date. Trust me."

Esther paused, biting lip again as she thought it over.

She nodded finally, smiling. "Okay. I'll do it."

Catherine grinned. "Good. Now the only question is . . . what to make."

"What was the first thing you and Steve made together?"

Catherine's smile softened as her thoughts drifted to a memory from eighteen years earlier.

June 1997

Catherine walked around the side of the Mills' house in Annapolis to the backyard. Steve was by the new shed, preparing paint in two trays.

"Reporting as requested," she said, shifting the duffel bag on her shoulder.

He looked over and smiled. "Hey, Cath. Thanks for coming back."

"Of course," she said and returned his smile.

"I see you came prepared today," he said, nodding at her torn denim cutoffs and grungy t-shirt. The sleeves had been cut off the shirt, and he could see the navy blue of her sports bra when she turned sideways and put her bag on the porch.

"Don't get me wrong," she said, walking toward him. "I appreciated the loan yesterday, but these fit a little better."

"Yeah," he acknowledged with a little laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.

There was a brief pause as their eyes held for a moment, then he recalled himself and motioned to the paint trays. "I borrowed another paint roller from the guy next door, so it should go faster today."

She nodded. "Great."

"And I did the trim earlier."

"I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner."

He shook his head. "No, don't apologize. Of course you should spend time with your aunt and uncle." He winced a little. "I kinda feel bad. I mean, I appreciate the help, but are you sure they don't want you at their house today?"

She smiled reassuringly. "They're totally fine with it. My uncle's at work all day anyway, and my aunt had plans this afternoon. Besides, they both know me well enough to know once I started, I'd want to see this project through to the end."

He nodded. "That's definitely you."

"Something we have in common, I think."

"Yeah," he said with a soft smile, his eyes holding hers again.

Swallowing, she broke the moment this time, putting her hands on her hips and looking at the shed.

"Well, should we get started?" she asked.

"Let's do it," he said with a nod.

They each took up a paint roller and began to apply the second coat of paint. As they worked, they discussed the various training blocks the rest of their summers would entail, and Steve gave Catherine some advice on making the most of the three weeks of naval tactical training she would soon be undergoing as part of her Third Class summer.

As the afternoon went on and they finished the final wall, Catherine took a step back and stared at the shed with a look of amazement.

"This is really incredible, Steve," she said and looked at him. "Think about it, the Mills will have this shed . . . this thing you made, for years."

He gave her a small smile and shrugged. "They've been really great, renting the room out and feeding me and everything. It was least I could do."

"I don't think the 'least' you could do is build an entire shed. That's far from the least. It's amazing."

He again tried to shrug off the compliment, but couldn't help smiling at her words.

"You know, I want to do something else for 'em," he said. "Something they're not expecting. I mean, the colonel was planning on putting up a shed. I just offered to do it for him. But I don't have a lot of time left before I have to report."

Catherine thought for a moment.

"How about dinner?" she said finally.

He raised an eyebrow in question.

"You could make them dinner one night," she suggested.

He winced and scratched his head . "I don't really . . . know how to cook much."

Catherine shrugged. "I'm pretty good. I could help," she offered. She looked at him with a small smile. "If you want."

Steve licked his lips as he thought out loud, nodding slowly. "Neither of them are coming back until close to dinner tonight. It could be a surprise."

She smiled. "Even better. They won't have to figure out a meal after a long day."

"What would we make?"

She paused, her brow knitting in thought.

"How about lasagna?" she asked. "I know my family's recipe by heart. It's not authentic by any stretch of the imagination, but it's not too hard."

He nodded, an excited smile growing on his face. "Okay. That sounds good. We'll need to go grocery shopping."

"I've got my aunt's car."

"Perfect." He smiled gratefully at her. "Thanks, Catherine."

"Sure. It'll be fun."

He chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "If you say so."

After they had cleaned up the paint supplies and both had showered, they drove to the grocery store to get what they would need for dinner.

Steve held the handle of their cart as Catherine looked inside and ticked off the items on her fingers. "Okay, so we've got lasagna noodles, sauce, cheese . . ."

"Lots of cheese," Steve interjected.

"Sausage. Italian bread. Zucchini for the side dish." She looked up at him. "What about dessert?"

"Um . . ." he began, looking back at her for help.

"Tiramisu?" she suggested.

"Come again?" he asked, his lip curled up in confusion.

She laughed at his confused look. "Tiramisu. It's an Italian dessert, coffee-flavored." She twisted her lips thoughtfully. "Mmm, maybe something simpler. We could get some fruit and make whipped cream. That'd be nice and light after the lasagna. And summery."

Steve quirked an eyebrow, smirking and folding his arms. " 'Summery'?"

Catherine smiled at his teasing and repeated, "Summery. Good for summer."

"Can I get a language of origin on that one, Rollins?"

She rolled her eyes. "You're such a smartass."

He laughed heartily in response.

"It's a word," she insisted.

"I'm sure it is," he said, laughing.

She pressed her lips together, fighting a smile, and pushed him on the arm, causing him to laugh even more and grab the handle of the cart again.

Her grin broke free, and she chuckled. "I'll grab the cream and meet you by the produce."

He nodded, and she watched him maneuver the cart down the aisle around the other shoppers.

"And it is a word," she called after him, and he threw a grin back at her over his shoulder before he turned down the main aisle.

After they had picked out strawberries, blueberries, and raspberries, they headed for the checkout lanes to pay.

Steve and Catherine began placing items on the belt. The middle-aged cashier's eyes brightened as she picked up the box of noodles and scanned them at her register.

"Ooh, lasagna," she said and looked between Steve and Catherine. "Are you two cooking together?"

"Yes," Steve said politely, placing a container of ricotta cheese on the belt.

"That is adorable," the woman continued. "What a romantic date."

Catherine's eyes widened. "Oh, no, um, we're not–"

Steve jumped in. "It's not–"

"It's for other people–"

"We–"

The woman, whose nametag read Margaret, continued ringing up their items and talking as if they hadn't spoken. "My husband and I used to do that sometimes." She gave them a knowing look. "Just try not to get too . . . distracted." She smiled and winked. "Although, that's half the fun."

Steve and Catherine shifted awkwardly, exchanging a quick glance before focusing their eyes elsewhere as they waited.

Once all their items had been scanned and bagged, Margaret announced the total and Steve paid for their purchases.

"You two have a wonderful evening," Margaret said with a meaningful look as she handed Steve his change.

He glanced at Catherine who picked up one of the paper bags and gave him a small shrug, her smile now somewhat amused. He sighed and smiled at Margaret. "Thank you." Picking up the other two bags, he followed Catherine out of the store and to her aunt's car.

Once back at the Mills' house, they immediately set to work in the kitchen. Catherine had Steve fill a pot with water to cook the lasagna noodles while she was stirring the ricotta and Parmesan cheese together with some pepper.

After the noodles were finished, she showed him how to arrange them on clean kitchen towels so they could cool. He was a quick study, and took over so she could get the sauce ready.

After combining the two jars they'd purchased into one bowl, Catherine hunted a little and found the brown sugar. She smiled over at Steve. "My grandma's secret ingredient. She used to to say she added it just for me when I was a kid so it would taste like the sauce at our favorite pizza place in Chicago."

"Oh yeah?" he asked with an interested smile.

She nodded, adding a couple tablespoons to the sauce. After stirring for a minute, she dipped a new spoon in the bowl and tasted it. With a satisfied nod, she set down the spoon.

"Lemme try," Steve said as he was arranging one of the noodles on a towel with both hands.

Without a thought, Catherine grabbed a clean spoon and offered him a taste. Automatically, he put a hand on hers to steady it as the spoon went in his mouth. They both stopped at the sudden proximity, their eyes locked.

His gaze drifted to her lips, and he swallowed. She lowered the spoon slowly, and his hand fell away, both now avoiding each other's direct gaze.

Steve shook himself slightly, licking his lips. "That's . . . really good," he said quietly. "Sweet."

Catherine looked up at him. "The sugar," she said unnecessarily.

"Right," he said, meeting her eyes again.

She turned suddenly to the bowl, stirring the sauce again with her original mixing spoon. "The noodles should be cool enough in a minute, we should start layering the lasagna . . ." Her voice trailed off as she continued to stir.

Steve blew out a slow, silent breath while her back was to him. He looked up at the ceiling for a moment.

"Can you bring that pan over?" she asked, glancing over at him.

He inhaled, collecting himself quickly and grabbing the rectangular pan they had found earlier.

Together, they layered the sauce, noodles, and cheese mixture in the pan, both more relaxed with a task to complete.

As Catherine spread a little sauce on top of the last layer, she said, "We'll add the mozzarella slices when it's almost finished baking."

Steve nodded. "So it's ready for the oven?"

She smiled. "Yep. Go for it, sailor."

He opened the oven, then slid the lasagna pan onto the rack and closed the door. Turning back, he nodded toward the counter and said, "We've got a couple noodles left."

"Yeah," she said with a smile and pulled the towel with the remaining noodles closer. "This is the best part."

She motioned him over with her head as she picked up part of a broken noodle and swiped it across the inside of the sauce bowl. Smiling, she ate it and nodded for him to do the same.

They leaned on the counter next to each other, finishing off the remaining noodles and sauce.

Steve licked a bit of sauce off his finger and glanced at the oven. "Smells good. I can't wait to eat."

She grinned and ate the last piece of noodle in her hand.

"You're a really great cook," he said sincerely.

"I had good teachers," she said with a soft smile.

His smile mirrored hers. "I guess I can say the same now."

She glanced down, but only for a moment before meeting his eyes again and smiling.

"Thanks, Catherine," he said seriously. He nodded around the kitchen. "For helping with this. It was a great idea. I think the Mills will really like it." He smiled. "And you were right. It was fun."

"You're welcome," she said with a smile of her own. "I've always thought it was more fun cooking with someone else."

He nodded. "You might be right about that."

Present Day

Later that evening, Catherine's phone buzzed with a text message. She shifted forward on the sofa to grab it from the coffee table and looked at the screen. She smiled, seeing a photo of a beaming Esther and Kamekona with their lasagna and an accompanying message:

With shrimp, of course ^.^

Chuckling, Catherine set her phone down and sat back on the sofa again, a satisfied look on her face.

After a moment, her brow knitted thoughtfully. She stood, and Cammie raised her head from her place on the floor where she had been resting.

The curious dog followed Catherine into the kitchen, and they both returned a moment later, a book in Catherine's hands. Cammie sat next to the coffee table as Catherine opened the homemade recipe book Mary had given her and flipped a few pages until she found the one she was looking for. Smiling, she picked up a pen and began to fill in the recipe.

As she was writing, the front door opened and Steve stepped inside.

Cammie immediately rose and went to him while Catherine smiled a welcome before turning back to the book and finishing the last few steps.

After rubbing Cammie's head with both hands and greeting the happy dog, Steve stepped closer to Catherine and sat beside her, a curious expression on his face.

He looked down at the heading on the page and smiled.

The First Thing Steve and I Cooked Together

"I remember that day," he said. "The Mills were so surprised when they got home."

She set her pen down, the recipe complete, and smiled at him. "Yeah. That was one time we didn't get . . . distracted."

He raised his eyebrows and gave a little snort. "Speak for yourself."

She laughed lightly, acknowledging the point with a nod.

He shook his head and licked his lips. "You fed me that sauce and all I could think was how much I wanted to do this."

Leaning forward, he kissed her slowly. She raised a hand to his cheek, but otherwise kept the kiss light and smiled fondly as he pulled back.

"Yeah," she said quietly. "I was right there with you. But it wasn't the right time."

He nodded slowly, his eyes on hers and a look of contentment on his face as past, present, and future filled his mind.

The sound of his stomach growling broke the silence, and they both chuckled.

"What do you want do for dinner?" he asked.

She smiled. "Let's cook something together."

He returned her smile and nodded, his voice sincere when he replied.

"No one I'd rather cook with than you."

Hope you enjoyed!

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