Page 40 of Raven's Instinct
Amy screamed louder, pounding on Kendra’s shoulder and trying to squirm out of her arms.
Alan, like the angel he was, took the takeout bags before Kendra could drop them. “Sorry,” she said, feeling helpless and disappointed. “We might have to cut this short.”
“For this?” Alan said gamely. He had to repeat himself because his words were completely drowned out in Amy’s wailing. “Amy, have you ever seen a dishtowel? Did you know I have dishtowels? Would you like to wear one on your head?”
To Kendra’s astonishment, the absurd proposal penetrated Amy’s armor of anger. She forgot to yell and stared at Alan in confusion.
“I don’t have a lot of kid’s toys,” Alan confessed, as he led them into the kitchen and put the takeout on the counter. “But I do have dishtowels!”
He pulled one off of the oven handle and put it on his head. “I’m not sure if you’re cool enough to wear a dishtowel on your head like I am, Amy.”
Amy, her fit completely forgotten, sputtered in protest and reached both hands for the towel.
Alan’s glorious hair was loose, but he risked it as he ducked into her range and let her snatch the towel off of him and try to position it on her own head. That put him very close to Kendra, who was still holding Amy, and she didn’t draw away when he leaned in to kiss her.
“You are amazing,” she said frankly, when she had breath for it. Amy, all smiles and joy again, tried to put the dishtowel on Kendra’s head.
“I really am,” Alan agreed with no humility. “And that smells like ambrosia.”
He showed her to the dining room, which had a small table and four chairs in a space that could have held much more. To her surprise, there was a booster seat, so new it still had a sticker on it, already strapped to one of the chairs. The tray waited on the table. Kendra put Amy on the floor—this room looked safer than the living room, with its glass-doored bookcase and low-hanging art. She shrugged out of her own coat, then chased down a cackling Amy, who had captured a second dishtowel from the refrigerator door. Kendra got her out of her jacket and set her loose again to try to drape both towels over her head. Amy’s hat had come off near the door, and Kendra went togather it up off the floor and hang their things on hooks beside the entrance.
Alan, in the meantime, was serving up the Thai food. “I assume the mild pad Thai is for the two of you,” he said. “Would you like a little of my hot beef?”
Kendra told herself that he was offering food, not the hot beef in his pants. “Just a nibble, please. I almost never get to order hot food because I’m always sharing my meal.”
Amy abandoned both dishtowels. “MINE!” she said, pointing to the steaming red dish that Alan was serving himself.
“It’s super ouch,” Alan warned her. “Super red-hot, Lucy-fire ouch!”
“MINE!” Amy insisted.
Alan made a show of putting a tiny dab on her plate, carefully picking a noodle that wasn’t too coated in the red sauce.
Kendra swept Amy up in her arms and plunked her down in the booster seat, buckling the belt around her and locking in the tray before the little girl could protest. “I didn’t expect you to have one of these.”
“I picked it up at the BigMart,” Alan said, bringing in three plates at once and putting them down with a flourish. “I’m hoping this isn’t a one-time dinner.”
“Wait until you see what a mess this small thing can make,” Kendra cautioned.
“We did paper mâché at day care today,” Alan said breezily. “Try me.”
Amy certainly did. She ate one bite of Alan’s food, gleeful at first then slowing as the flavor hit her. The rest was thrown before Kendra could stop her.
“Let’s play don’t throw the food,” Alan suggested, before Kendra could scold. “I bet I’m better at this game than you.”
Amy stared at him for a moment, obviously trying to decide if he was teasing, and then held a hostage noodle out in the air.
“I’meatingmy noodles,” Alan said. “Mmm…noodles. Can I eat faster than you?”
That spurred Amy to stuff the noodle in her own mouth, which got her into the pattern of eating. Kendra ate her own meal in relative peace. Alan’s addition to her plate was welcome zest and enough extra food that Kendra was happily full by the time she was finished. “Did you get enough?” she asked, when Alan slipped a little more onto her plate.
“It was perfect,” Alan assured her. “I couldn’t eat another bite.”
Kendra cheerfully finished what he gave her. Amy ate most of her food and smeared the rest around on her tray and scattered bits in every direction and all over her face.
“I warned you there would be a mess,” Kendra said as she carried her dishes into the kitchen. “I’ve got wipes in her bag.”
“Would she like a bath?” Alan offered, rising. “I don’t have any toys, but I’ve got some plastic cups and a few wash cloths. The dishtowels were certainly a hit.”
