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"We're fine here, you should finish your movie," she said, a dry smile on her lips, shooing me away like a bad child.
"She's right, Dad, you should watch the rest of your movie," Mark chimed in.
I smiled at the boy, turned the smile on Becca, and made my way out of the kitchen. It was the day when Mark chooses someone else over me but I was obviously not a good enough competition against yogurt and pastries at the café, I thought.
I settled into the couch and picked up my phone again. Becca would certainly want to talk about all this later. I had no excuse. I had taken to spoiling Mark after his mom's death. I had been hurt and broken and turned my affection to him. Giving him whatever he asked for and more. It wasn't my fault if that seeped into his meal plan. Not really.
Mark was shaking me awake, both hands on my arm.
"Becca says dinner is ready," he informed me. I got off the couch and stretched, looking around, the movie was still playing on TV.
The girl on the screen was swimming through the water, somehow a mermaid herself. I didn't understand any of it anymore. I must've fallen asleep during the movie.
"Why's she a mermaid now?" I mumbled, before following Mark out of the room.
The table was set, and Becca sat beside the chair at the head of the table, dishing the food onto our plates. Mark walked over to the chair opposite her and climbed into it himself. I walked over to the head and settled in.
"Could you say grace?" Becca asked.
She linked her hands with mine and I linked mine with Mark's while I said the prayer. When I was done, Becca nodded at Mark, who dug into his food. I picked up my fork and scooped up a tiny portion of the meal, took the fork to my mouth, and groaned.
"You like it?" Becca asked, smiling.
"Like it? It's perfect," I said. The meal was good. Better than good.
I dug in, watching as Mark led his shredded chicken to his mouth. He looked happy enough with the replacement. The chicken was perfectly cooked, tender, and juicy, the way I liked it to be. I was more of a steak guy, but this chicken would convince anyone.
"I knew you'd like it." Then she turned to Mark. "Do you like it too?"
"It's cool," Mark replied, shrugging.
Becca placed her hand against her chest and feigned a hurt look. She mouthed "It's cool" made a face and smiled.
"Do you need more chicken?" I asked Mark.
He shook his head, his mouth closed, which was unusual. Not that he didn't want more chicken, which was strange enough, but that he didn't open his mouth. Mark was a talkative boy.
"What did you do to him?" I whispered to Becca. Whatever she had done, I wanted her to keep doing it.
***
I curled up on the bed against Hunter's side. I had just made it back into bed after tucking Mark into bed. He hadn't looked so happy to be sleeping and from his reaction, I was certain Hunter let him stay up later than that, which made me remember having let him stay up myself. The boy was irresistible, especially when he put that cute pout on his face and looked up at you with his wide eyes.
But he was a growing child, and he needed to learn discipline and structure. He couldn't always get what he wanted.
"You were about to let him stay up past his bedtime," I said to him.
Hunter placed his hand behind his head and gave me a kiss on my hair.
"I'm used to him keeping me company while I clean up," Hunter replied.
"Hunter!" I exclaimed.
He lifted his hand over his head in surrender. "I know it's wrong, but he doesn't like to sleep early, and I enjoy his company."
"He shouldn't be doing that, he'll get used to it and it'll be difficult to break him out of the habit," I said.
"I know but he's still a kid and I want to spend time with him now that I can. Soon enough I'll be no fun to him," Hunter said.
