“I’m making you dinner,” I say, pulling away from her and dropping a tender kiss on her lips. “You take a bath or read, or whatever you want, and I’m going to make us a feast.”
“Really?” She sounds a little skeptical.
“I’ve been your apprentice long enough,” I say with a wink. “I want to make something for you, and I want you to relax while I do it.”
She nods as I kiss her again, and a little chorus ofooohhhserupts from the top of the stairs.
***
Sliding the toaster next to the oven, I lean my phone against it and find the YouTube channel of the dad I’ve been watching cooking videos from. His kids usually join him, and it’s adorable listening to their Australian accents as they cook. In this lesson, he’s showing us how to make steaks, scalloped potatoes, and steamed broccoli.
I’m wary of the girls liking this meal, but if all else fails, I have some chicken nuggets in the freezer for them.
I slip my apron over my head, and get to work, the girls drifting in and out the whole time. They help me by sprinkling a little too much salt on the steaks and dropping a few potatoes on their way into the dish, but in the end, I’m impressed with the dinner we’ve made together.
As I’m setting the potatoes on the table, Millie appears at the bottom of the stairs in my black sweatpants and Catan Battles 2009 shirt. She’s swimming in them, the fabric of the sweatpants bunched at her ankles and rolled at the waist, but she looks perfect.
One side of her lips kicks up. “Hope this is okay. I didn’t want to put on the same clothes, and I found these in your drawers.” She holds her arms out and does a spin.
I approach her and slide one finger into the waistband, feeling her silky skin warm the back of it. “Does that mean there’s nothing under these sweatpants?” I whisper, and the blush across hercheeks gives away her answer. I wrap my arms around her shoulders, inhaling the scent of my soap on her skin.God, I could get used to this. “I love seeing you in my clothes. Wear them every day.”
“I’m pretty sure Sharon wouldn’t be promoting me if I showed up to work in this.”
“Then wear them every moment you’re not at work,” I tell her as I guide her to a spot at the table and pull out the chair.
“This looks amazing,” she says, taking her seat.
“I burned a bit of the cheese on the potatoes.”
“Well, I believe burnt cheese is an underappreciated delicacy,” she says, eyeing the dish with a brown scar across the top.
Eloise approaches the table with a wary look. “Do I have to eat that green stuff?”
“Broccoli is good for you, so I think you should give it a try,” I tell her as I sit down.
“When I was little, my sisters and I pretended they were trees,” Millie says, serving herself some potatoes and passing me the dish. “We used to talk about the fairies that lived under them and what they did for fun or what they were eating for dinner.” She holds up a piece of steamed broccoli and squints at it. “Can you imagine how tiny the fairies would have to be if these were trees?”
Eloise and Avery follow her example, putting a piece of broccoli in front of their noses to examine the imaginary fairies. They’re likely still reluctant to eat it, but maybe playing with it is a good first step.
Millie cuts into her steak and closes her eyes around the first bite. “You did so good.” She shakes her head in disbelief. “You’ve come a long way from your cooking disasters a couple months ago. You nailed this.”
“Thanks,” I say, appreciating the sight of her enjoying the meal I made for her.
Throughout dinner, I can’t keep my eyes from drifting to her. We’ve had a handful of meals together in this room, but today it feels completely new. Like I’m seeing things clearly through a new pair of glasses after years of blurry vision.
And I want to see this view forever.
Chapter 37
Millie
The final drop of hot glue cools against my fingertip, and I release the small string. The chrysalis sways as I let go, but the hot glue and string keep it in place. Twenty-three new Blue Morpho chrysalises adorn the rack that will hang in our containment room until the butterflies emerge in about six days. I set the rack in the frame where it belongs and walk back to our room of offices.
Today is the day. The other applicant should be here any minute, and I’m not quite sure how to prepare myself for it. Micah is at a library outreach program all day, so it’s just me, waiting for fate to bring my competition down the hall.
Maybe it’ll be a kind old woman who has been obsessed with insects her whole life and can teach me how to crochet a sweater. Or maybe someone my age, who’s just so incredibly wonderful that I can’t help rooting for them to get the job. A new best friend might be popping around the corner at any moment.
I drop into my desk chair and open my email. As I scan a message from Reva, footsteps thud down the hallway. The deep sound is rather menacing, but I’m sure it’s just a trick of the acoustics. I sit up straighter and will my smile not to break as my new friend approaches.
