Page 57 of Stables

“Sorry, baby girl.” I can’t admit I was distracted watching him. “Here, I’ll get some plates.”

He slides some juicy morsels onto her miniature dish, then pushes it closer to me and I add a few small chunks of veggie.

I’m surprised how easy this is.

Matt never helped with dinner, much less Paisley’s food.

It’s like a punch to the stomach seeing the difference of what was to how it could be.

Can it be?

Why not?

Dixon picks up her setting and puts the food in front of her. “Now, Paisley. Do you eat with your fingers, or are you a big girl and use a fork?”

Paisley’s big blue eyes dart between me and Dixon.

I know she usually uses her fingers except the messy stuff.

But I’m curious what she’ll say.

“Fork.” Her little chin juts up.

That’s my girl.

“Yes, ma’am.” Dixon tilts his head to watch me open the utensil drawer and hand him a toddler-sized one.

Paisley’s tongue pokes out as she slowly tries to stab a sliver of steak.

I wonder if Libby taught her that.

When she succeeds and tucks the first bite into her mouth, her entire face changes into a look of wonder.

“Mmm.” She wiggles in her chair and immediately aims for another chunk.

“That’s a good sign.” Dixon graces me with a quick smile before nodding towards the table. “Where do you want me to sit?”

I have this ridiculous urge to tell him wherever that lets me sit on his lap.

That’s a whole other slab of meat to think about, though.

I’m not sure I’m quite ready forthat.

Yet.

“Anywhere.” I usually eat standing, only sitting long enough to feed Paisley.

He moves to the long side near Paisley and pulls out one of the heavy wooden chairs. “Here, sit.”

My mouth opens and closes soundlessly.

His jaw ticks and his nostrils flare subtly as he watches my lips.

With a tiny twitch under his left eye, he pulls the seat out further. “Go on, I’ll sit there.” He nods towards the other chair.

Neither of us taking the end.

Funny, that was Matt’s favorite place.

---