“That’s fucking awesome,” Cody says.
“Language,” my mom scolds. “We have a guest.”
“Oh, I’m not offended,” Tanner assures her. He turns back to Cody. “And that’s what I tried to tell your sister, but she wasn’t impressed.”
My brother laughs again, and I honestly don’t know the last time I saw him this happy.
“Dinner is ready,” my mom says. “And we need to get going, honey.” She checks her watch.
“We’re just going down the street, so if y’all need anything, call us,” my dad says, grabbing his sports coat off the back of the chair.
“Y’all have fun and enjoy yourselves,” I urge. “Cody,Tanner, and I have everything under control. Isn’t that right boys?”
Both men nod, and my mom wraps me in another hug. “Thank you for this, sweetheart,” she says, squeezing me. “It means a lot.”
“Don’t mention it.” They leave, and Tanner immediately jumps up to help me plate the food. I remove Cody’s tray table, moving him as close to the table as I can, and then I set his iPad within his reach.
“Looks like your mom made chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans,” Tanner says. “You want a little bit of everything, man?”
Cody taps the screen and says, “Yes.”
“Here,” I say, handing Tanner a divided plate with built up edges for my brother. He spoons out the portions and then turns to walk the plate over to Cody.
“Oh, actually, can you hand it to me? I need to cut up the chicken.”
“Shit,” he says rather discouraged, turning back around. “I’m sorry.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because I talked to Poppy, and she said that sometimes people with brain injuries might need help cutting up their food, but I should ask, and I forgot to ask, and then I tried to give him a whole piece of chicken, and I should’ve asked,” he rambles quietly and a little panicked.
I stare at him, speechless. “You talked to Poppy?” I whisper. Those butterflies swoop low in my belly, and my heart skips a beat.
“Well, yeah, I figured I’d eventually meet Cody, and I just, I don’t know. I messed up, and I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure I didn’t fuck up his first impression of me I guess.”
“You didn’t fuck up,” I say, giggling at how flustered he is. “He does need help cutting the chicken, but I forget sometimes too.”
Cody begins typing on the screen on his iPad. Tanner sets the plate back on the counter, and I hand him a fork and a knife.
“She does forget,” Cody says.
“Well, I’m glad I’m not the only one,” Tanner says, nudging me with his elbow. He begins cutting, and then when he’s done, he looks at me.
“Is this okay?” he asks, nervously.
“It’s perfect.”
He walks the plate over to Cody, and places it on the table in front of him.
“Utensils?” he asks, flipping back and looking at me.
“Top drawer on the left. He uses the spork with the fat gray handle.”
“Got it,” Tanner says.
“Thanks,” Cody says, before taking the spork and digging into dinner. I fill his special cup with water, and then once he’s settled, I serve myself. Tanner is leaned up against the counter holding a plate, watching me.
“You gonna get some food?” I ask. “I promise my mom is a better cook than I am.”
