“This is hopeless,” Dara said as her shoulders sagged. Bom wrapped her arm around Dara and squeezed tight. “You’re not hopeless. You’ll get it down. You’re being way too hard on yourself.”

“After three weeks, you’d think I’d be able to perform the simplest tasks in the kitchen,” Dara said forlornly.

“Let’s face it. I’m a culinary disaster.”

“Are you all right, hon? You seem really down lately and not just about this cooking stuff. Is everything okay with you?”

Dara smiled brightly and straightened her stance. “Oh, yeah, fine. Marriage is exhausting work. Who knew? Just trying to get my routine down. I’ve been spending my mornings at the shelter so I can be at home when Jae gets in from work. I keep hoping one of my meals will actually turn out but I keep having to call in backup.”

Bom laughed. “You’re so silly. I don’t even know why you’re bothering learning to cook. Jae doesn’t care if you can cook. The man’s obviously crazy about you and you couldn’t cook before you got married. I’m sure he’s not expecting some miracle to occur.”

Dara bit her lip to keep from crying. The truth was, she was exhausted. Planning that damn cocktail party had turned out to be a giant pain in her . She was tempted to call her mother and beg for help but pride kept her from making that call.

The old Dara would have laughed, thrown her hands up and admitted she was hopeless. The new Dara was going to it up, be calm and get the job done.

“Are you coming to my party?” Dara asked, suddenly worried she’