Page 7 of Seal of Approval

“They used to be cooked in pots.”

A crease formed between Bailey’s eyebrows, but he didn’t ask any more questions. He started eating his vegetables. He would google that later. And down a rabbit hole, he would go.

Ethan picked up his knife and fork and cut into the pie.

Rose stared at him, her blue eyes intense. “Is that how you eat pies in America?”

“Yes.” Ethan glanced around the table. We were all watching him, our knives and forks beside our plates.

“We eat pies with our hands,” Rose said. She picked up her pie. “If you’re really talented like Jack, you can eat it with one hand. When he was younger, he could eat a pie with one hand and drink a beer with the other.”

“Right.” Ethan continued to use his knife and fork.

“Maybe people from San Fran don’t like to eat with their hands,” I said.

Ethan grimaced. His attention turned to me. “San Francisco. It’s called San Francisco.”

I swallowed. “Sorry. I just thought it was shortened to San Fran.”

“Only outsiders call it that.”

Noted. I didn’t want to insult anyone else by calling it San Fran. It seemed like a touchy subject.

Bailey raised his eyebrows. “So you don’t shorten it at all?”

“Some people shorten it to SF.”

“SF,” Rose repeated. “SF. San Fran.” She cocked her head. “San Fran is easier to say.”

Ethan didn’t reply. He continued eating his pie with his knife and fork. Rose ate with gusto, licking the thick meat and gravy eagerly from her lips and then her fingers. She studied her plate, then poked at her veggies and mash with her fork. Her mouth twisted. There was likely a debate going on in her head about which to eat first.

“Do you like veggies, Ethan?” Rose asked.

“Yes.”

For a teacher, he was very short on words. Rose’s insistent stare pushed him for more of an answer.

“I love them now. As a kid, not so much.”

“I don’t know whether I’ll like them when I’m old.”

A smile tugged at the edge of Ethan’s lips. Nice to see he had a sense of humour. He’d shown none of it up to now. Or a personality, even. I paused. That was harsh. The poor man had arrived and found out he’d have to share a house with us. It would take him some time to adjust.

Rose chose to eat her vegetables before her mash, picking at them slowly while studying Ethan. “Do you have a favourite vegetable?”

It seemed like Ethan wasn’t going to get any peace. It was typical Rose style. She gave everyone an earbashing.

“Carrots,” he said.

Rose grinned at him across the table. “Me too. Jack and Lily said that carrots help your eyesight. That’s an even better reason to eat them. I wonder if mermaids eat carrots to help them see underwater.”

Ethan cocked his head but didn’t say anything.

Bailey continued to eat in silence. Every time someone spoke, he turned his face towards them and listened. But he never added to the conversation like he normally would with Rose and me. This was one of the reasons I was hesitant about having a relationship. I didn’t want my children to feel uncomfortable or left out.

And I knew what men were like. They never wanted to be second fiddle. Even their own father wanted me to put him before our children. Granted, Max was probably at the extreme end of the scale when it came to thinking he was more important than anyone else. But still, I’d moved on from that shit. The children had men in their lives they could trust. Jack was a good role model—kind, and hard-working. And Ken, before he’d retired from being a ranger, had been a big part of their life. That was all they needed. That was all I needed.

Rose placed her knife and fork on the plate with a clink. She addressed Ethan. “Next Sunday we can have your favourite meal.”

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