“Hey.”
Rowyn hummed and leaned back against her as Eliza placed a soft kiss beneath her earlobe.
“Hey yourself. Behave or we’ll get caught,” Rowyn whispered without making any move to lean away.
“One more minute. It takes them at least two to argue over the sink as they wash their hands,” Eliza said as she placed her chin on Rowyn’s shoulder.
“Actually, they don’t argue anymore since I gave them instructions. They alternate now. Whoever gets to pick the book for story time tonight does that while the other person washes their hands, then they swap and that person fixes the beanbag and blankets. It means they have more time to play after dinner before they need to get ready for bed, so they’ve both stuck to itevery night this week.”
Eliza kissed Rowyn’s neck quickly before she pulled back so Rowyn could turn to face her.
“Have I mentioned lately that you’re a genius? Or a sorceress, I’m not quite sure which yet.”
Rowyn grinned as the sound of footsteps descended the stairs behind them.
“You haven’t, but I like the sound of both. Now, go sit and relax while I take up the food.”
“I’ll set the table first,” Eliza said, but Rowyn shooed her away.
“No need. We got it covered.”
Eliza’s mouth parted slightly in astonishment as her children walked into the kitchen and began carrying plates and cutlery to the table as if they had been doing it forever. They laid everything out carefully in its place without a groan or a prompt as Rowyn followed them with the food in hand.
Sorceress.
Eliza mouthed the word as Rowyn beamed at her. It wasn’t that Eliza didn’t get her kids to do anything—she did. They were solely responsible for their bedrooms and playrooms, and she expected them to pitch in around the house to a degree. But almost all of that was done with reluctance at best and arguments more often than not. It had gotten to the point where it was easier to do it herself than deal with the fallout.
“Do you want some water?” Elliot asked as he held a pitcher of iced water in the air.
“Who are these pod children and what have you done with my kids?” Eliza whispered to Rowyn, who had taken up the seat beside her.
“What does pod children mean?” Amelia asked as Elliot poured them all water without waiting for her reply.
“I think your mom means to say that she’s impressed withthe way you’re both helping out,” Rowyn said.
“Impressed and a little…surprised, yes.”
Also wondering what you’re both angling for.
Eliza added the last part in her head, not wanting to sound like a terrible mother.
“Rowyn said we could pick dessert anytime we set the table without arguing. Otherwise she gets to pick dessert,” Amelia said.
“And she picksbaddesserts,” Elliot added with wide eyes.
Eliza looked at Rowyn in amusement.
“Hey, I’m not a miracle worker. They needed some motivation. They tested the waters the first night, and apparently my cheese and crackers board wasn’t a good dessert pick, especially when they spotted the brownie bites I had hidden away in case they decided they wanted the option to pick. They’ve gotten to pick every night since.”
Eliza was nothing but impressed with the idea. She wasn’t one to use food as reward or punishment, but Rowyn wasn’t doing that either. She was giving them a choice of whether they got to provide input or not on the options, and apparently the choice made all the difference. It made sense to Eliza in the context of things she had begun to read up on since Rowyn planted the seed about neurodivergent children. Some things were starting to fit into place, but Eliza wasn’t quite at the stage of truly getting it yet. Not the way Rowyn obviously did.
“If I set the table tomorrow night, can dessert be carrot cake?”
The shouts of “No!” in unison had Eliza and Rowyn cracking up as the kids looked on horrified.
“You’ve never even tasted carrot cake,” Eliza said.
“I’ve never tasted broccoli cake either, but I know I don’t wanna,” Elliot replied.
