Gabriella
Max was, without a doubt, too antsy and heightened to sit in the terror of their experience in the woods. Just like blinking into a bright room from a pitch dark one, the world suddenly seemed at once too bright to process. So. Talk of cooking classes it was.

"*Me*? C'mon! I handled that with all the grace a person could hope for! If you want - what was it now? Soup that wards off ghosts? You best give credit where it's due!"

Sundays? Huh. Well... Sure. Yeah, sure, Sundays could work. 

"Yeah, we could have you over Sunday, long as you don't mind a bit of a full house. The Sheriff is good buddies with my brother, so he's over sometimes then, too. But he's no trouble, really; kitchen's mine anyhow, so if I tell those two to keep out, they'll mind."
Julie
"I *Am* Gonna give you credit! I have!" He pointed out. "You did a damn good job back there, what with all that... Talkin' em down stuff," He said, shaking his head. "And you can't tell me you can't throw a few of them fancy flowers in a soup and basically make an anti-ghost soup. I don't believe it for a second that there ain't somethin' in that big brain of yours." He even reached out a prodded the side of Max's head to emphasize that. 

The prospect of that many people being around him all at once... Well, he supposed he'd have to get used to being in a room with more than a person or two at once. He supposed he'd have to start on Sunday, wouldn't he? Might as well throw himself in the deep end of the lake, so to speak. 

"Can't believe you're displacin' the sheriff just so you can give me a cooking class," He said in amusement. "Fine, fine. Sunday it is, then." 

It was definitely weird, how they'd gone from awkward shuffling to somehow arranging a makeshift cooking class this coming Sunday. Funny how the world worked.
Gabriella
The comment was casual, just something said alongside the light-hearted teasing - but Max took pride in Dally commenting on his smarts. Like it was just a natural, self-evident thing to remark upon. 

Dallas reminded him of Daisy a bit, and how she had a habit of jumping up on people with her front paws without realizing she'd send them toppling. It was the same now, what with all Dally's elbowing and shoving. 

Max would rather the rough housing came from Dallas than Daisy any day. It was nice, in its way, to be touched at all. 

"If I'm displacin' Noah Rowe, it's only by a margin of about ten feet - to the left of the kitchen and at the table with my brother. He will be just fine."

As the road veered closer to the bend that led to the Morton home, Max decided it would be best to check in... Even if Dallas claimed not to have been shaken up. 

"Hey. You're certain you feel steady? I'm just up the way here. But if you need somethin' - I don't know. That was a whole lot, back there. Good we bumped into each other."
Julie
"Sounds like Yer runnin' that house with an iron fist. That kitchen yer domain?" He asked him as they walked along that long path. Perhaps he'd really underestimated the younger Morton brother— maybe he could hold his own far better than he thought. Especially if he was in the business of bossing the local sheriff around like that. 

Though the inquiry into his state was a bit funny; most people thought Dallas was an immovable wall. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been asked if everything was alright. 

"I'm fine, stop worryin'. Yer like a damn mother hen over there." He put his large hand down on top of Max's head. "I seen things that would make yer toes curl, ain't no sense in worryin' about me." He assured him. Dallas had seen some things that would make some grown men cry. 

"But... Yeah, gotta say, glad it turned out the way it did, I s'pose."