God In The Kitchen Read Online Free PDF Page B

with a second book, though. Readers are going to expect something similar, but I kind of feel like I said everything I had to say, you know?”
                I didn’t know and I was dreading the fact that she was likely to ask me relatively soon. Instead of answering, I slurped in some coffee, unwrapped a muffin, and nodded with enthusiasm.
                “Do you see anywhere I could branch off and write a whole entire second book?” she asked.
                And there it was. My test. I had known it was coming, but it was still hard to form the words in a way that wouldn’t offend her again.
                “Well,” I started, trying to remember if I had skimmed anything in the acknowledgement pages that would help me out.
                “You didn’t read it,” she said, her face falling slightly.
                “I tried, I really did,” I said.
                “And you didn’t like it? You couldn’t get through it?” she said, a hint of worry on her face.
                At that point, I realized what the real issue with Abigail was. She wasn’t worried about me reading her book so that I could hold a conversation with her about it. She was worried about me reading her book and not liking it.
                “Oh no, that’s not it at all,” I stumbled around my bite of muffin, trying to choke it down so I could answer her without my mouth full. “I didn’t get a chance to even start.”
                “So…you haven’t read any of it?” she asked, her face relaxing a bit.
                “Not a word,” I said, finally swallowing the giant bite of muffin and setting the treat aside so I wouldn’t choke myself on any more. “I really wanted to,” I continued, trying to find the right words. “I even took it to work with me today. But after the shift this morning I had to meet with the sales staff on some new clients and then there was a conference call…” I trailed off, hoping she would see how crazy my week had been.
                “I get it,” she said. “You’re busy.”
                “You don’t even know the half of it,” I said, trying to make my life appear much more hectic and in demand than it really was. “You know that day you were in the studio? I was in an accident that day!”
                “A car accident?” she asked, leaning forward in her chair, her green eyes widening.
                I nodded. “Yep, an official fender bender.”
                “Are you okay?” she asked, running her eyes down my chest and over my hands.
                “Fine, I’m just fine. My car is fine. The other car…well…it died, but all of the passengers involved are okay.”
                Abigail breathed out a small sound. “Well, that’s all that matters, then.”
                “You’re right. Dealing with the repairs this week, though, well, it was just one more thing on my plate.”
                Abigail smiled. “I know how that can be. It seems like just when you can’t take anymore, something else comes along.”
                This was going much better than I thought.
                “I can certainly understand,” I said, still wanting to explain my side of the story to her. “I would have read your book. I always do. It was just with my father’s passing, I hadn’t gotten caught up again and your interview caught me by surprise.”
                Abigail reached her hand across the table and squeezed mine. I wished I didn’t have muffin crumbs on it, but I squeezed back.
                “I’m really sorry about your father,” she said, looking me in the eye.
                “Me too,” I said, feeling my emotions welling up. I hadn’t allowed myself to cry again since Evan appeared in the kitchen. I was half afraid that