The Tessa Randolph Collection, Books 1-3 by Paula Lester (good short books .TXT) 📕

Tessa chewed her bottom lip for a second, wondering what to do. Once again, it was late in the evening, and Tessa had no idea how she could possibly help Silas. Gloria had put her investigation in the right direction. But it wasn’t like she was a detective. She was a reaper. And her mother was now even higher up in the pecking order. Maybe she could offer some insight that neither Tessa nor Gloria had thought of yet.

Tessa’s stomach grumbled, clinching the decision. She typed back quickly: Sure. Need me to bring anything?

The answer came almost immediately: I think I'm all set.

It was just like Cheryl to be “all set.” She was Type A in every single way, which included hosting others for dinner—even her own daughter. She’d been that way as long as Tessa could remember.

Tessa wondered how her mother had managed it all. Cheryl kept the house clean, got dinner prepped and ready by seven every night, and still maintained a solid relationship with Tessa’s father. And she did that between reaps, PTA, choir practice, and attending Tessa’s extracurricular activities.

The clock on Linda's dashboard said it was before six o'clock. Tessa considered going to her apartment for a little while but quickly decided against it. Maybe she could learn a few other things from her mother. She drove straight to her mom's house and parked on the street out front.

As usual, pulling up to her childhood home brought on a flood of memories and emotions. She'd had a good childhood, if a tiny bit lonely as an only child. So, most of the memories were good. Still, Tessa always thought about her dad as she walked the familiar path up the driveway to the front door. She really missed him, and whenever something new happened in her life, she always wondered how he would react to it.

Her mind drifted to Silas, and she imagined bringing him home to meet her dad. She had no doubt they’d get along, since both men liked working with their hands and putting in an honest day’s labor.

It was more than that, though. Silas was the first guy she’d ever thought this way about. Her heart squeezed at the thought that the two men would never get to sit down and have a meal together or commiserate over Tessa's less desirable traits.

She entered the house and called out, so she wouldn't startle her mom.

Cheryl appeared in the kitchen doorway wearing an apron. "You're an hour early, Theresa. Dinner’s not ready." Her tone of voice seemed to indicate that Tessa should turn around and leave the house.

Tessa shook her head. "Sorry. I just had nothing to do for an hour, so I decided to come on over. Maybe I could help you with dinner?"

Cheryl's face twisted for a second in an expression that clearly showed she had doubts about Tessa's ability to help. She quickly smoothed the wrinkles in her forehead out. “You? Help with dinner?”

Tessa rolled her eyes. "Come on, Mom. I can cook a little bit. Besides, I could use a lesson or two. You can teach me more, so I’ll get better at it."

“I tried to when you were in high school.”

“I wasn’t ready for it then.” No, I was dealing with other stuff. She batted her eyelashes a little bit and tried to look younger.

Cheryl sighed and headed back into the kitchen. "Come on, then."

Tessa dropped her purse on a chair in the living room on her way through to the kitchen. "Smells good in here. What are we having?"

"Roasted chicken and vegetables. You can chop the potatoes." Cheryl gestured toward a bowl full of russets on the counter. "I already scrubbed them."

Tessa washed her hands in the kitchen sink and then began chopping. Cheryl was busy seasoning the bird, which was already in a roasting pan.

"So, how was your first day as the Eastern district supervisor?" Tessa asked.

“Horrible. There was a mound of paperwork and video conferencing—between which I had plenty of additional regulations to read.” She cut her eyes toward Tessa. “You know, all the job description type of stuff that you skimmed over when you started your new job.”

With a smirk, Tessa dropped a handful of newly chopped potatoes into the pan. “I figured you’d tell me anything truly important.”

“Yes, well, my boss isn’t so accommodating as yours was.”

Tessa thought about Corwin Blade. He’d been pretty nice to her, but she could imagine it wouldn’t be good to be on his bad side. As a grim reaper, getting fired isn’t the worst thing that could happen when important rules get broken. At least, that’s what Cheryl had hinted at now and then.

“The secret is to stuff bits of butter and herbs under the skin.” Cheryl demonstrated, showing Tessa how to season the chicken. “The second secret is to not overcook it.”

“But it’s chicken.” Tessa eyed it as if just looking at it might give her salmonella.

“A lot of people are antsy about chicken, and they want to make extra sure it’s done. So, I have a secret weapon to guard against that.” Cheryl held up a meat thermometer.

“That’s it? Not very glamorous. I thought you were going to show me a real secret,” Tessa teased. “Like one from the big guy.” She cut her eyes toward her mother. “You have one of those, don’t you?”

Cheryl gave no indication she knew what Tessa was talking about. “I have a thermometer, dear. I pull the chicken out of the oven when it’s about five degrees below where I want it to end up. It’ll continue to cook a bit and finish up once it’s out. That’s another thing a lot of people don’t realize about chicken. If you cook it until it gets to the temperature you’re going for before taking it out, it will be overcooked.”

Tessa dumped the rest of the potato chunks into the roasting pan, and Cheryl slid the whole thing into the oven. Then she turned toward her daughter, and her eyes dropped to