And the rice was plain ol’ boring white rice.
But if it meant that she would eat, I would eat the shit and be happy.
Which she did.
After bringing in the grilled chicken and placing it on the counter, I scooped out some rice onto a plate, more than she likely would eat, and then flipped over a crispy piece of chicken that I’d marinated with the sweetest teriyaki I could find.
Sweets seemed to do the trick. Not only had she been able to hold down a cupcake today, but a cookie and a kid’s bowl of orange chicken and white rice.
And since I was all about seeing her eat, I’d tried to recreate a little bit of that at home.
When she came into the kitchen wearing her gray sweats, my sweatshirt that I’d all but forced on her, and a pair of slouchy socks, I thought I’d never seen anything more beautiful.
“You look adorable,” I said as I placed the plate into her waiting hands.
She looked at the food and smiled.
“Thank you,” she said softly as she moved to the bar where we usually ate our meals.
But, since I was trying to make this more traditional for us, I gestured toward the table. “I set the table. We can sit there.”
She blinked at me owlishly. “You… what?”
I smirked. “I set the table.”
It wasn’t much. Just some silverware, a non-scented candle that I’d had to take out of our emergency stash, and napkins.
But it was me, trying. Trying to give her what she deserved, that I never gave her before.
“Are you sure?” she asked softly.
I placed my plate at the table where I usually sat when I was alone, then took her plate from her and set it directly next to mine. “Come on. Do you need a knife?”
She nodded her head, and I went back to grab a steak knife to cut up our chicken and a couple of drinks for us both.
“Do you want to try a Dr. Pepper?” I asked.
She looked thoughtful for a second, then nodded, causing her hair that was piled high on the top of her head to bob. “Yes.”
I grinned and grabbed two, handing her one before taking the seat beside her.
I watched out of the corner of my eye as she ate, and ate it all.
God, I hoped she kept it down.
When she was through, she even went back for seconds. Which made my heart fuckin’ happy.
That night, after we were ready for bed and crawling in, I turned out the light and said, “So what do you want to do, darlin’?”
I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to pull her into my arms and hold her tight all night long.
But that hadn’t been my question.
“I’ll go,” she said softly. “I had a job lined up there anyway.”
I blinked, surprised. “You did?”
“Yeah,” she said softly. “When I graduated in December, I started to look. That’s why I went to Accident. They had an opening for a child psychologist.”