Page 152 of Papa's Bébé
The chili looked. . . interesting.
Better than the rice anyway. He could tell it was a gloopy mess, but he kept that thought off his face.
She’d tried.
And he would eat it.
He took a bite of the chili, swallowing it hastily. And immediately fire burst through his mouth.
Merde!
She had a forkful of chili and he quickly reached over and knocked it out of her hand before it reached her mouth.
“Hey! What are you doing?” she cried.
But he was up and racing for the fridge. He grabbed the carton of milk and gulped it down.
“Oh no!” she cried, following him. “Is it too spicy?”
“Just a bit,” he said hoarsely. “Whatever you do, don’t eat it.”
“This is terrible!” she cried. “I was trying to make you a nice meal and I nearly set your mouth on fire.”
“I’ll be fine,” he said hoarsely as he gulped down milk.
She shook her head. “No. This is my fault. I wanted to show you that I can cook. But the truth is that I can’t. I’m useless in the kitchen. Like I am at everything! I’m so sorry. I’m just going to . . . I have to go . . . ”
Turning, she ran off.
Shit.
She wishedshe’d thought to stash some chocolate in her bedroom. Because she could really use some right now.
Chocolate made everything better.
Well, she hoped it would. Right now, it didn’t seem like anything would.
What had she been thinking? She couldn’t cook.
Toast and jelly was more her style.
Or chocolate cake. She made an awesome chocolate cake.
Chili? Really?
There was a knock on her door, but she ignored it. She didn’t feel like peopling right now.
Today had been amazing. Tank had looked like he’d had fun. And when they’d gotten home, instead of immediately retreating to his bed in the spare bedroom, he’d stayed out in the living room for twenty minutes.
It was small but it was definitely progress.
Then you go and ruin everything. You are the great ruiner.
“Maya, come out here, please.”
“Maya isn’t here,” she called out as she hugged Dicky tight. What she wouldn’t give to be able to slip into Little headspace and pretend this never happened.
Her Little didn’t care about embarrassing herself. Her Little only cared about playing with her secret stash of toys. She glanced over at her closet and sighed sadly as she thought about her Lego stashed away in a box.
