Ryan had officially been adopted into the Cohen family, so Seth thought it was a good time to give Ryan some advice. Seth loved his mom, Kirsten; she was the nicest person on the planet. She was a smart, successful businesswoman. But there was a good reason for the housekeeper and the constant take-out. Kirsten could not cook...at all. Everything she had ever tried to make from scratch had turned out burnt, undercooked, or otherwise inedible. Seth had told Ryan to run interference if Kirsten looked at the appliances for too long, or else suffer the consequences. Ryan had laughed it off, not realizing Seth was deadly serious. Since he wasn't the Cohens' biological son, Ryan always let Seth take the lead about dissuading Kirsten from cooking.
Then came a fateful summer afternoon. Sandy was in court all day and Seth had gone to the harbor to teach sailing lessons, leaving Ryan and Kirsten alone in the house. They both decided to take advantage of the weather. Ryan went swimming while Kirsten sat on one of the deck chairs with the latest novel her book club had picked. Ryan was so relaxed he dozed off on his pool float. A pang of hunger eventually woke him up. He noticed Kirsten was no longer in her chair.
Through the glass door, Ryan could see his adoptive mom in the kitchen. He hoped she had just gotten hot and decided to finish reading her book in the air conditioning. But she was standing. Ryan wasn't too worried at first; she could be making sandwiches, fruit salad, or something equally harmless. Instead of coming back outside, Kirsten walked out of view. She was headed...in the direction of the stove. Ryan wished he'd woken up sooner, or that Seth was here, anything that would've kept her from cooking.
Kirsten reappeared, waving cheerfully at him from the window. "I'll bring your lunch outside in a few minutes, sweetheart!" she called.
Ryan waved back and nodded. He got out of the pool, toweling off as best he could. Maybe he could help her salvage the meal...
When Ryan walked into the kitchen, he was stopped in his tracks by the smell of burnt cheese. The smoke detector was going full blast. Kirsten looked frazzled.
"Ryan, would you mind turning that off? I can't reach it."
Ryan dutifully reached up and pushed the button. He wondered if Kirsten was done cooking or if he should go ahead and take the batteries out. Kirsten put on her oven mitts and held out a baking tray. It contained several blackened blobs that probably used to be quesadillas.
"Hi, honey!" Kirsten then confirmed his suspicions by asking, "You like quesadillas, don't you?"
Ryan wondered how he could get out of the situation without hurting Kirsten's feelings. She looked proud and seemed not to smell that anything was amiss.
"Um, yeah, I do," he started hesitantly. "But, uh, I'm not really hungry right now. I had a late breakfast."
He reasoned that at least the first and last sentences were true.
"Really? Well, that's too bad." Kirsten frowned a little. "I made these just for you."
Ryan felt sorry for her. He knew Kirsten was trying to bond with him, make him feel welcome, and be the kind of mom Ryan never had. The kind who wasn't constantly drunk and could whip up homemade meals for her son. Ryan hated to disappoint her, but he also didn't want to even attempt eating the charred mess of tortillas and cheese.
"We could save 'em for later," Ryan suggested. "Seth loves quesadillas too."
Kirsten brightened. "That's a great idea! He's always so hungry when he comes back from sailing. The salty air and all, you know. I bet these will taste better once they cool off, anyway."
Ryan doubted that, but he helped Kirsten wrap the burnt offerings in foil and put them in the fridge. He hoped Seth would forgive him for this.