Since Robert was confined to the bedroom, I had to find something to do with my spare time…and there was a lot of it. And sitting around watching him all the time was no longer an option…it just made me feel worse. As it turns out, I really like cooking. I found an old cookbook written by Eva Grimwood (Vera’s mother according to Robert) and I’ve been enjoying preparing meals. I always make too much food but that means there’s always leftovers for later. Plus it keeps my mind occupied. But after a few dinners made by me, Robert’s condition oddly seemed to worsen. One minute he was telling me how much he enjoyed the soup and the next he was face first into his bowl. He quickly jerked upright and told me he way okay and that he was only a little bit woozy. But still, it disturbed me. Was I really that lousy of a cook?