Mike followed her, bemused. "Hey, you taking over here? You think you're my wife or something?"She turned toward him, a serious look on her face. "As ...uch as I can be, yes." She turned back to the stove.That rocked him a little. In order to gain some time to think, he asked, "What're you cooking?"She pointed at a cookbook open on the counter. "I used to cook at home. Mom didn't like to cook. I don't know a lot of fancy stuff, mostly what you can make cheap: stews, chili, stuff like that."Mike. Miss Jordan sent him out with lemonade or iced water for them every day and sometimes to relay her instructions, dressed provocatively. They were a little more forward than the inside workmen, and Miss Jordan got it all in living color with sound. They believed, as the inside workers did, that Miss Jordan was Dave’s mother, and they carefully were very respectful when she was around. Dave complained to Miss Jordan about the comments, but she just waved him off, told him to smile, and, if the. More

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