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"I'm hungry, Daddy," Rhea said, with perfect timing, since it looked as though Cole's eyes were about to shoot across the room like bullets.
I had to stifle a laugh. "I'm hungry, too.”
As Cole shared out fluffy rice and spoonfuls of fragrant chili, a wave of happiness flushed through me. I dolloped on a heap of sour cream and, at Rhea's insistence, sprinkled liberal shredded cheese over the top.
"This looks amazing!" I said.
"You need the death sauce," Rhea told me.
"Death sauce? That doesn't sound . . . good."
Cole went to the fridge and pulled out a small bottle of lurid red sauce. "It's my own special blend. I make a fresh batch every year. Packed with habaneros, lime, garlic—all the good stuff. The girls have been gradually building up their tolerance."
"Pain is just weakness leaving the body," Rhea said, making devil horn hands.
"Rhea's really getting into the good stuff now," Cole noted, a hint of pride in his voice.
"It's so funny when she has too much. Her ears go all red, like a cartoon character," Lexi giggled.
"Can I have four drops today, Daddy?"
"Four's a lot, kiddo. Sure you don't want to stick to three?"
"I can take it."
Cole carefully measured out four small drops of the sauce, and Rhea clapped with excitement. She seemed to be feeling much better now. Kids were so resilient.
"What about you, Miss O'Neil?" Cole asked, waving around the death sauce. "Ready to dance with the devil?"
I was not exactly a chilihead, but I had to try this. "Go on then, just a little."
He measured out a couple of drops.
"Daddy, can I do yours?" Lexi asked sweetly.
"Can I trust you, Lex?"
"Mmhmm. How many drops?"
"Five."
Lexi shook out at least ten drops of the sauce onto her dad's plate. I figured he had an idea that might happen, as he didn't seem too upset.
"Bon appétit, everyone!"
The chili was delicious. Rich, savory, and with a slow-building heat that made my lips tingle. I could tell that Rhea was struggling a little with the spice, but even though her face went a little red, she kept going strong.
As we ate, the conversation flowed easily, the girls peppering me with questions about my life as a baker while I inquired about their favorite subjects and friends at school. I made sure not to mention Pedro, much as I wanted to ask Lexi about him.
Midway through the meal, Rhea set down her spoon and fixed me with a pensive look. "Elara, do you think liking spicy food is a boy thing?"
I frowned. "Not at all. What makes you ask that?"
"Well, Lexi likes mostly girl stuff and I like some girl stuff but a lot of boy stuff, too."
Cole looked thoughtful. "What is boy stuff, Rhe?"
"I don't know, just stuff boys like. Like at school, the boys play with balls. And they don't let the girls play with the balls."
