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“Eat what you can.”
“I don’t like this cheesy thing.”
“That’s an enchilada. There’s chicken.”
“I don’t want it.”
“Do you want to go straight to bed?”
Silence. I watched as Katie climbed down from her stool and reached for her plate, carrying it to the table. Clara placed a glass of milk, a fork and a napkin next to her, and I surmised that the standoff was over.
I marveled at how Clara took it all in stride, handling the challenge of getting a five-year old to eat as easily as she must wrestle her workday challenges, even if they weren’t bears.
“You’re good at everything,” I whispered to Clara, thinking about how impressive she really was. “You’re smart, funny, killing it at work, a kickass mom...”
“Um...thanks. Overstating.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. You’ve always been incredible.”
She met my eyes then, wrinkling her nose at me. “What does that mean? In high school I was just the tutor girl next door. You barely knew I existed.”
I held her gaze, hoping she’d see my sincerity there. “Oh, I definitely did, Clara.”
A soft pink blush rose in her cheeks, and it took everything in me to reach for a plate instead of for her. I wanted to show her exactly how much I’d thought about her then, and how much I’d been thinking about her now. Especially since the kiss in the center of the ice.
“This looks incredible,” I said. “Add amazing cook to the list.”
“It’s not very good, Silly Sylvester,” Katie called to me from the table. “Very goopy.”
“I love goopy enchiladas,” I told Katie, smiling at Clara before I carried my plate to the table.
“These are yucky,” Katie told me. I could tell she was hoping for a little conspiracy of dissatisfaction, and as much as I wanted to make Katie happy, the food looked amazing. I waited for Clara to join us, my stomach rumbling audibly.
Once Clara had sat down and lifted her fork, I took a bite, making a big show of enjoying it. It wasn’t hard, because the food was amazing. “These are delicious,” I said, meaning it and nodding at Katie.
“And Katie?” Clara said, her voice low with warning. “Do you remember what we talked about? When someone cooks for you?”
Katie dropped her mother’s gaze and her shoulders slumped a bit. I wanted to reach out and scoop her up, but I knew these were the kinds of lessons that were important.
“This looks delicious, Mommy.” Katie murmured the words, her shame at having been corrected almost palpable as Clara and I shared a knowing look.
I lifted my water toward the beautiful woman across from me. “To Clara. Congratulations on the job!”
Her brow furrowed for a split second before she smiled. “Thanks.”
Katie was very absorbed in disassembling the items on her plate like some kind of culinary scientist, and I looked across the table. “You don’t seem thrilled about the job.”
Clara sighed. “No. I am.”
“No. You’re not.” I took a bite, the flavors exploding on my tongue and distracting me momentarily. But it didn’t take an expert to figure out something about the job bothered Clara. “What’s up?”
She shook her head lightly. “Nothing. It’s the right move. Work from home flexibility, office hours that’ll keep me close to a phone and closer to Katie. Less uncertainty overall, and a better paycheck.”
“Sounds perfect.”
“It is.”
“No wrestling with wildlife?”
