“Ms. Tina,” I ask, noticing her concerned frown, “is everything okay? Do y’all need help setting the table?”

She glances around nervously before leaning closer and lowering her voice. “Well, we have a bit of a problem.” Her eyes dart towards the children and back to me.

Syd pipes up with wide eyes. “We don’t have any food! Daddy always has dinner prepared and ready to eat at 6 p.m. sharp. No exceptions.”

Ms. Tina, along with the rest of the staff, exchange anxious looks. “Mr. Grimes has never missed preparing a meal. This is very unlike him.” She confesses, wringing her hands slightly.

Stepping forward, I place my hands on my hips and scan the room. “Hmm, well, I know he and Hudson are tied up in the library, so instead of interrupting him, why don’t we handle dinner tonight?” I suggest with a hopeful lift of my eyebrows.

A staff member gasps, clearly shocked by the suggestion. “We don’t do that here. Mr. Grimes cooks for us.”

I blink in surprise, my curiosity piqued. “Huh?”

“It’s true, Ms. Kind,” Ms. Tina confirms with a nod. “We haven’t cooked a meal in five years. It’s just what Mr. Grimes does. He takes care of us.”

Well, this is interesting. Why in the world would he have a kitchen staff who don’t actually cook, and why does he do all the cooking?

With a mischievous grin, I rally my two mini troops. “Well, there’s a first time for everything! Ari, Syd, how ‘bout we cook dinner for a change? It won’t be fancy, but I have a ten minute recipe in mind. What do you say? Ready to make a mess in the kitchen?”

The girls cheer and high-five while the staff chatter amongst themselves.

Ms. Tina, however, isn’t quite as enthusiastic, a worried frown creasing her brow as she grumbles, “Oh goodness, Mr. Grimes is gonna flip when he sees this.”

“Which makes it all the more fun, doesn’t it?” I smile and even manage to pull a chuckle out of her. “Come on, girls. We’re gonna make my go-to ‘broke girl’ meal.”

I rally the kitchen staff, and I can’t help but let a little of my authoritative Southern roots show through. “Alright, y’all, let’s gather around and pull out the ingredients for a special recipe passed down from my mama. I promise it’ll warm your hearts and bellies!” The staff starts bustling about with newfound energy.

I turn to Syd, who’s waiting to be told her chef duties. “Syd, could you grab all the bread from the pantry? We’ve got a lot of mouths to feed tonight!” She dashes off, her enthusiasm echoing through the clatter of the pantry door.