Eva had never, in her entire life, made dinner, by herself. For herself, certainly, but not for someone else and not without a little help from Mrs. Sweeney here and there. The woman was a godsend really, without her they would certainly be lost. She was not however, the most fond of Eva having a gentleman over for dinner without someone else home and it had take quite a bit of persuasion on Eavan's part to get the woman to stay out of the kitchen and out of the dinner itself. Mrs. Sweeney wasn't taking no for an answer and so Eva had to agree to let her stay in the house somewhere just in case. In truth, Eva hadn't put up much of a fight. She knew Mrs. Sweeney had no kids to call her own and liked to keep and eye on the three crazy Americans under their roof, so as long as the older woman agreed not to interrupt, she could remain in the house.

It didn't take long for Eva to regret that.

She was not a natural in the kitchen by any stretch of the imagination. Sure she could always manage to pull something together for herself, but she was not the most picky when it came to eating. Apparently, she was picky about what she served to a guest; especially when that guest was Fletcher. Not one to ever feel like she was out of control of a situation, Eva was slowly losing her grasp on the meal, and was already flustered. How did Mrs. Sweeney do this every day? The roast and vegetables were in the oven (the last thing Mrs. Sweeney had been able to do before she was ousted from the kitchen) and Eavan was supposed to be making something for dessert, but the soda bread she had planned, was not like she remembered making with her mum...

A knock on the door had her squeaking in surprise and glaring at the clock; was it really that time already!? Eva flung off her apron and smoothed down the skirt of her pretty blue dress and tucked a stray strand of red hair behind her ear before taking a deep breath and answering the door. Hopefully she didn't look as frazzled as she felt.