Gretchen’s sharp side-eye indicated that my cape-wearing sous chef suspected as much.
I handed over the spatula, purely for distraction. No such luck.
“Does he play flag football?”
“No, but I think the guys at the mill are trying to talk him into it.” I smiled, remembering Viggo’s annoyance at the constant harping of his fellow loggers.They won’t leave me the fuck alone about it. Grumble. Grumble.
She stirred the sausage lazily. “Does he like babies?”
“I think so.” Or the truth:He said he doesn’t, but I don’t believe that for a second. He’s a freaking teddy bear and the nicest guy I know.“How about you? Are you warming up to the idea of having an honorary cousin around?”
“Cousin?” She cocked her head curiously. “But we’re not related.”
“That’s where the honorary part comes in. Or he or she could just be your friend.”
“Is it going to be a boy or a girl?”
“I don’t know,” I replied. “It’ll be a surprise.”
“Hm.” She fixated on the chorizo again, nibbling her bottom lip. “I looked up some facts about babies to go with our fruit facts.”
A grin spread across my face like wildfire. “Oh, yeah? Like what?”
“Did you know that babies have more bones than adults?”
“No way.”
She shrugged. “I think it’s ’cause their skulls are in pieces. Gross.”
I chuckled and turned off the burner. “That’s interesting.”
Gretchen jumped off the stool. “I have another one.”
“Bring it.”
“Did you know that babies can cry and swallow at the same time?”
“Are you pulling my leg?” I winked, shaking a leg as I rinsed off the jalapeños.
“Oh, brother.” She snorted. “Also…they also use a lot of diapers. Like…thousands.”
“You’re gonna help me change this kid, right?” I joked, reaching for a paper towel.
“Ew! That’s so icky!” She made a sucked lemon face followed by a round of faux gagging.
I threw my head back and laughed. “Okay, okay. Just kidding. You’re off the hook.”
She frowned. “I can help. Not with anything gross, but I can dosomething. I could read to the baby.”
“That would be very nice,” I replied, touched by the offer. “I bet babies like fruit facts.”
Another eye roll. “No, I think they like boring baby books.”
“And fruit facts.” I clapped, signaling it was time to focus on food. “I’m going to remove the seeds and chop the jalapeño finely. As in so small, it’ll look like tiny green specks. After that we’ll make our batter, fold in our special ingredients, and put a batch in the oven. We have twenty minutes before your dad picks you up so, let’s do it.”
Gretchen smacked my outstretched palm and flounced her cape behind her theatrically. She was all smiles again, chattering away till the bell rang above the door in the donut shop and Reg called a greeting.
“We’re in the kitchen, Daddy!” Gretchen licked icing from her fingers and whispered, “Shh. Don’t tell him it’s spicy.” I made a zipped-lip motion that made her giggle and add, “This is going to be so funny. I hope we still get to do this after the baby comes.”
