It’s only then that I realize the mistake I made, spending this much time with her. Of course, she would get attached.Igot so attached, I don’t know how I’ll leave. And yet the day is coming, and soon. My home is not here anymore. My job is waiting for me. And now I have this little girl who I have to leave, after she’s been left so badly already.
“Your daddy will do it,” I say, then pat her head in goodnight. Eli nods, and his eyes tell me some part of him knows what I’m doing. He doesn’t say anything as he brings Zoe upstairs.
While I’m alone, I clean the kitchen we made a mess of while baking, then do the dishes and pick up some of the toys Zoe left lying around. Eli is back downstairs by the time I’m done.
“How did it go tonight?” I ask.
“Good, I think.” He slumps on a stool. “We’ve got a court date in a few weeks. My lawyer said we have a solid case, even though judges usually rule in favor of the mother.”
“That’s good news.”
“I’m still scared shitless.”
“Understandable.”
Eli leans forward to pick a cookie from the tray, but I slap his hand before he can.
“What?”
“You can’t eat these.” I should’ve thrown them away already, but I have a hard time getting rid of “good” food when there were a few times when I was young, I wasn’t sure therewouldbe food for dinner. Every time my father inevitably lost his job, Mom would do her grocery shopping at the dollar store and pretend like she wasn’t hungry when her plate was smaller than ours. Then, my father would go out of town and find another job, we’d be better off for a few months, and the cycle would start again.
I figured I’d leave with the cookies and eat them no matter what they taste like.
“Why?”
“Your daughter compared them to literal fish food.” And to a chef? I’m not dumb enough to risk it. I’ve seen his visual judgment of my chili already.
His lips quirk up. “I may have raised a monster.”
I like to think I’m fast, but Eli is definitely faster. He steals one and bites in before I can stop him.
“You little—”
He interrupts me by standing to go spit his bite in the trash can.
“All right, Mr. Overreactor. They can’t be that bad.”
“Sweetheart, I think you’ve just tried to kill me.”
I try to ignore the tingly way it felt to be calledsweetheartand taste a cookie myself, then force myself to swallow it down. The only reason Zoe stole two must’ve been to pick at the chocolate chips inside of them.
“Okay, I swear they’re not as bad when I make them at home,” I mutter, still not throwing them away but moving the pan aside. “I wanted to give you these as a thanks, but I guess I’ll need to find something else.”
“Thanks for what?”
“For the other night. I really appreciated it.”
“It was nothing.”
Eli will never acknowledge that what he didwasa big deal, so I don’t bother arguing. Instead, I look around, trying to find something to give him. “I could teach you how to braid.” That would mostly be a gift for Zoe, but two birds, one stone.
“I can braid.” He looks like he actually believes it.
“Those braids were a crime against humanity.”
“Who’s the overreactor now?”
I grin, and he does, too. He knows I’m joking, that I admire the way he acts as two parents in one and does it so beautifully. I couldn’t be more in awe of him, even if his braids do suck.
