Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
Author's Note: Read and Review please!
It had taken Erica about forty-five minutes to get ready for dinner so she had about thirty minutes to kill before Callie's dad arrived. She headed into the kitchen to see what Callie was making.
"What's for dinner anyway?" She asked as she leaned against the door.
"My dad's favorite. Chile Verde with fresh tortillas," Callie answered while she checked on the contents of the pot on the stove.
"You're making it from scratch?" Erica asked although she wasn't sure why. Callie loved to cook and unlike Erica was capable of doing a good job.
"Yea, from scratch. You can't serve my dad frozen Chile Verde."
"I bet I can and would." Erica smirked. When they first moved in together Callie had given Erica such a hard time about her eating habits. Erica insisted there was nothing wrong with living off cereal and frozen dinners.
"If there aren't microwave directions or 'just add water' on the box, I don't buy it," is what Erica had told Callie on their first grocery shopping excursion.
"Well that's going to change. A few home cooked meals will do you some good." And Callie was right. Erica loved when she cooked. It made her feel like a person instead of a robot programmed for nothing but surgery and everything that goes with it.
Erica was brought out of her reverie by Callie's voice, which had grown a little more irritated since the last time Erica had actually heard what she was saying, indicating she had been reminiscing for awhile.
"Erica! Seriously, go pick up the living room and be sure to pick up all of your damn medical journals!"
"Yea, I'm on it, but for the record, they're your journals too."
"Just go!!" Noting how tense Callie was Erica couldn't help but chuckle and think to herself how much fun this was going to be.
