Savannah
I shouldn’t have gotten so uppity with Jameson, but I couldn’t stand the thought of waiting any longer. I would never be able to let go of the anger I was holding onto, so long as my father was alive. That anger would eventually transform me into somebody I didn’t want to be, if I didn’t do something about it.
Once Jameson finally agreed to me paying a visit to my father the next day, I felt like a small weight lifted off of my shoulders. Wanting to make up for my sassiness, I insisted Jameson sit down and relax while I cooked us a nice dinner.
I worked my own kind of magic in the kitchen and put together a pot of homemade chicken and noodles along with a batch of cornbread muffins. For dessert, I prepared a brownie and topped it with a homemade fudge sauce.
