Knitted Hearts - Amber Kelly Page 0,44

out the windshield and tapping her displeasure at being left behind.

I open the door, and she launches toward me. I can barely get the door shut as she claws at my chest, trying to get to my face to lick her thank-you.

“I missed you too, baby dog,” I tell her as I carry her into the warmth of the silo.

I set her down, and she runs to Sonia and starts jumping up and down.

“Settle down, baby. Mom’s right here. We have got to work on your separation anxiety.”

“I heard doodles tend to have that as puppies,” I tell her.

“She definitely does.”

Sue decides to bark at that moment, and George redirects her attention from Sonia to her buddy. She gallops toward the bathroom door and starts scratching at it.

“You fickle woman,” Sonia calls after her.

I walk over and open the door, and she goes in and starts pawing at Sue, who is curled up on the cool tiles, gnawing on a teething bone. I toss a second down for her, and she lies beside him and sniffs it. Sue stops what he’s doing and paws at the bone in front of her until she starts chewing it. Then, he returns to his.

I keep the door open but secure the doggy gate.

When I return, Sonia is in the kitchen, unbagging the supplies she brought.

“Are they in jail for the night?” she asks.

“If they are, they’re content in their sentence because they are cuddled up, munching on some turkey tendons and loving life.”

She smiles.

“Actually, I just wanted to make sure they didn’t come bounding out as soon as they smelled food in the oven,” I tell her.

“Good plan.”

She fishes a frying pan from the drawer under the stove and sets it on one of the eyes. Then, she turns and gives me a challenging look.

“Are you ready to learn how to make chicken marsala?” she asks as she picks up and waves two bottles of wine in the air.

“I’m at your service. Just tell me where you want me.”

“Do you have a meat tenderizer?” she asks.

“Is that the metal thing that looks like a hammer and you beat steaks with it?”

“It is.”

I walk over to the drawer that is between the stove and refrigerator. I slide it open and produce the utensil.

“Perfect,” she says as she takes it from my hand. “First things first. Open the bottle of cabernet, please.”

I get the cork out of the bottle and look to her for the next step.

“Pour a glass.”

“What?”

“That wine is for drinking while we cook,” she says.

I pour her a very generous glass of wine and hand it to her before I grab myself a beer and pop the top.

She takes a sip and sets it down before approaching me. She takes a gray apron and pulls it over my head, and then she threads her arms around me to tie it at my back.

“Follow me,” she beckons.

I do as she asked, and we walk over to the island. She has four chicken breasts sitting on the butcher block. She covers them with plastic wrap and begins to gently pound one with the mallet until it’s about a fourth of an inch thick. Then, she hands the mallet to me.

“Do that to the other three,” she directs.

I continue to follow her instructions as she pours olive oil into the pan and turns on the burner.

“Okay, what’s next?”

“Remove the wrap and salt and pepper both sides. With the pink salt and the pepper I set over there.” She points to the fresh peppercorn mill.

She adds a little flour to a shallow dish, and after I finish with the chicken, she uses tongs to dredge both sides of each breast, shaking off any excess, and places them on a plate.

She passes it to me with the tongs. “The oil should be hot now. Cook them until they are golden brown. About ten minutes on each side.”

Once the chicken is done, I put them on a plate covered with a paper towel to absorb any extra oil.

Sonia adds the mushrooms she sliced to the pan the chicken was in and hands me a spatula. “Keep turning them until they are soft. You can add a tad more oil if you need it.”

She sets a pot with peeled and chopped potatoes to boil on the burner next to me. Then, she adds chopped onions and minced garlic to the mushrooms.

“Keep stirring. You’re doing a great job,” she says before finishing her glass of wine and pouring herself another.

Then,