“Wow, that looks so good,” I say. And it really does. My lunch was a sad sandwich from the convenience store, so I resist the urge to grab the entire platter and devour it right then and there.
“Thanks,” she says, setting it carefully on the counter. “This is one of my favorites that Daddy and I make.”
I set my cookie tin down next to the platter. “Well, I broughtdessert. These are my grandmother’s Swedish butter cookies. She taught me how to make them when I was about your age.”
“That’s really cool,” Chloe says seriously, but I can’t tell if she’s referring to my grandmother or the cookies. Based on the way her eyes are looking at the tin, I’m guessing the cookies.
Theo heads back to the stove to check on the salmon and I catch his eye, smiling. He winks at me before turning back to the pan. Chloe grabs small plates from a lower cabinet and sets one in front of me, then places a piece of bruschetta on it with careful concentration.
“Smaklig måltid,” I say. “That’s what my Swedish grandmother always said before eating. It meansenjoy your meal.”
Chloe’s face goes serious. “Smock-a-leg mole-teed,” she says confidently, nodding once like she nailed it.
Close enough. “Perfect,” I tell her before taking a bite of the bruschetta, the flavors hitting me all at once—creamy ricotta, sweet honey, a hint of thyme. “Oh my god,” I say. “This is amazing.”
Chloe’s face lights up. “Dad, she likes it,” she reports.
“I heard,” Theo says, looking pleased as he sets a lid on one of the pots. “Why don’t you tell Emma what else we’re having while I finish up here.”
“Okay,” Chloe agrees. She climbs onto one of the stools at the kitchen island and pats the one next to her, indicating that I should sit. I settle in beside her, stealing another piece of bruschetta. “So for the main course we’re having cedar plank salmon, which I already told you about, with a citrus glaze that has orange and lemon and a little bit of honey. And roasted vegetables, which are brussels sprouts and sweet potatoes and shallots. And there’s going to be rice but not boring rice, it has herbs in it.”
“That sounds incredible,” I say.
“Daddy’s a good cook,” Chloe says matter-of-factly. “Mayyyybe not as good as Uncle Alex, but still.”
I chuckle, looking over at Theo, who’s doing something with a pan that involves a lot of confident wrist-flicking.
“Thanks, bug,” he says to Chloe. “No one’s as good as Alex, but I’ll take what I can get.” Then he looks at me. “Would you like a glass of wine?”
I nod and he reaches for a bottle on the counter and pours me a glass of something white and golden while Chloe and I both take massive bites of bruschetta. I think I could eat fifty of these. Theo hands me the glass and I take a sip.
“It’s a Vee-og-nee-ay,” Chloe informs me seriously, pronouncing each syllable like she’s reading off a cue card. “It pairs well with salmon because the stone fruit notes complement the richness of the fish without overwhelming the palate.”
I nearly choke. “I’m sorry,what? How do you know that? And did you just say stone fruit notes?”
“Yes. It also has hints of apricot and honeysuckle.” She takes another bite of bruschetta, completely casual, like she didn’t just sound like a sixty-year-old wine critic. “Uncle Alex taught me. He says most people drink Chardonnay with fish but that’s boring and a Vee-og-nee-ay is more interesting.”
“Chloe.” Theo says it with all the weariness of a man who has raised a precocious kid single-handedly for years.
“What?” Chloe asks innocently. “He said it, not me.”
“He shouldn’t be teaching you wine snobbery.” He sighs, putting the salt and pepper back on the shelf. “You’re seven. And you’ve got to stop reciting tasting notes in front of guests.”
I can tell he’s fighting a laugh, his jaw tight with the effort of looking stern when he clearly wants to crack up.
Chloe is completely unperturbed. “Relax, Daddy,” she says, and the way she saysrelax, like she’s a tired sommelier dealing with an anxious customer, nearly makes me spit out my wine. “I know it’s a grown-up drink. Uncle Alex just talks a lot when he’s making me lunch at the restaurant. He says it’s important I don’t grow up to have an unsophisticated palate.” She pauses. “And healsosays that knowing what’s good isn’t necessarily snobby.”
It’s so easy and warm, the three of us falling into a rhythm that feels natural, like we’ve done this a hundred times before. Chloe keeps up a steady stream of conversation while Theo finishes cooking, talking about school and her friends and the book she’s reading about giant squid and the art project she’s been working on. I listen and ask questions and sneak glances at Theo, who keeps catching my eye and smiling like he’s thinking the same thing I am.This is lovely.
At some point, during a lull while Theo plates the salmon, I turn to Chloe. “You know,” I say to her, keeping my voice light, “I was actually a little nervous about tonight.”
Her face scrunches up. “Why would you be nervous?”
“Well, we’ve never had dinner together like this. At school I’m Miss Hayes, your teacher, and that’s one thing. But this is different. This is me being here with your dad, as his girlfriend, and I wanted to make sure you felt good about that.”
She looks up at me like I’ve said something ridiculous. “You’re like one of my favorite people ever.”
My heart could literally explode. I pull her into a hug before I can stop myself, squeezing her tight, and she giggles and hugs me back. Over her head, I catch Theo watching us from the stove, and the expression on his face—soft and happy and maybe a little bit overwhelmed—makes my eyes sting.
