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"Oh yeah? I've got more where that came from. What do you call a sad strawberry?"
She rolls her eyes, but plays along. "What?"
"A blueberry!"
This time, she can't hold back her giggles. "You're so silly, Daddy!"
As we continue our back-and-forth of terrible jokes, the kitchen fills with laughter and the comforting sounds of meal preparation. Zola helps me add in some toppings for the salad, like croutons and cherry tomatoes. Then, she wipes her hands on my apron once she's finished.
"Alright, chef Zola," I say, ruffling her hair. "Time for the finishing touches. Can you put these colorful napkins on the table?"
She nods seriously, taking her job as my assistant very seriously. I watch her carefully arrange each napkin, making sure they're perfectly straight.
As the time for Chloe and Penelope's arrival draws near, I feel a surge of pride in my body. I want everything to be perfect, and so far, it's turning out to be just that. This dinner feels like more than just a meal—it's a chance to bring our families closer together.
I check my reflection in the kitchen window, smoothing down my shirt and running a hand through my hair. The timer dings, signaling that the chicken is ready.
"Zo, they'll be here soon. You ready to be the best host ever?"
She gives me a thumbs up, her excitement palpable. As I pull the golden-brown chicken from the oven, I can't help but smile. Whatever happens tonight, I know one thing for sure – with Zola by my side, it's bound to be an evening full of love and laughter.
A notification vibrates my phone. It's Chloe, telling me that they've arrived and are coming up the porch now. I open the door, and Chloe's smile is radiant. I can't help but return it with equal warmth.
"Welcome! Come on in," I say, stepping aside to let them enter.
Penelope barely waits for an invitation before darting past me, calling out for Zola. The sound of their excited chatter fills the house almost immediately.
Chloe laughs, shaking her head. "Well, I guess we know where we stand in the pecking order."
"Can't compete with best friends," I agree, chuckling. "Come on, let's head to the kitchen. I've got a few things left to do."
As we walk, I catch a whiff of Chloe's perfume—her usual light, floral scent that makes me want to lean in close and never let her go. I resist the urge, focusing instead on the task at hand.
In the kitchen, Chloe immediately rolls up her sleeves. "What can I do to help?"
"You don't have to—" I start, but she cuts me off with a playful swat to my arm.
"Don't even try it, Rendal. I'm here, I'm helping."
I laugh, holding my hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright. How about you finish the salad while I check on the bread?"
We fall into an easy rhythm, moving around each other in the kitchen as if we've done this a hundred times before.
"So," Chloe says, tossing the salad, "how was your day? Any exciting software emergencies?"
I snort, pulling the bread out of the oven. "Oh, you know, just the usual. Fixing bugs, putting out fires. Nothing I can't handle."
"My hero," she teases, her eyes twinkling.
As I set the bread on the cooling rack, I can't help but marvel at how natural this feels. Chloe's presence seems to brighten up the entire room, making everything feel warmer and more alive. The way she moves, the sound of her voice, the little smile she gives me when she catches me looking—it all fills me with a deep sense of contentment.
"What?" she asks, noticing my gaze.
I shake my head, smiling. "Nothing. Just... happy you're here."
Her cheeks flush slightly, and she ducks her head, but I can see the pleased smile on her face. "Me too," she says softly.
Eventually, we manage to wrangle the girls and plop them down for dinner. The dining room is filled with the clinking of utensils and the warm aroma of our meal, but it's the sound of their laughter that really makes the evening special.
