Robert burst into the kitchen, his arms laden with grocery bags. "I got the groceries!" he announced triumphantly, his voice echoing off the walls. The kitchen was a flurry of activity, with Irwin hunched over the table, scrutinizing a rather intimidating turkey. He took a deep breath, his eyes meeting Robert's with a mix of hope and desperation.
"Tell me you know how to cut these," Irwin implored, slowly retreating from the turkey as if it might suddenly spring to life.
Robert set the bags down with a thud, his eyes widening at the sight of the turkey. "I've never had to cook before," he admitted, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Maybe we should just call Grace. I'm sure she can whip up something in no time..."
Irwin shook his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "You think Eisley wouldn't notice? She's cooked and eaten with Grace more times than I can count in the twenty-five years I've known her."
