When the food came out, residents flooded the buffet line.
But I grabbed three plates first and walked them straight to The Bettys’ table. From the kitchen I watched Betty stare at the plate. After a few minutes, she picked up a fork to poke the eggs.
I watched as she took one small bite.
Then another.
Suddenly she was eating like she hadn’t seen food in days.
When I returned to their table, I sat down and said casually, “Well, Queen Betty, looks like I finally made something that tastes good.”
She straightened her shoulders. “It was passable.”
I snickered, then I felt a small hand squeeze mine under the table. Betti. Her eyes were wet as she mouthed two words.Thank you.From that day on, I only made food Betty could comfortably eat.
Whipped vegetables, fancied-up mashed potatoes, bisques, and pâtés. But those damn French eggs? Her favorite. I think she knows damn well what I’m doing, she just refuses to admit it.
Which brings me back to the present as I stand behind their table. All three of them have their backs to me, arms folded. Bette even huffs.
I spread my arms again. “What, no love today?”
Betti scoffs. “It’s been over a month, Ryan. I’m not that easy.”
Betty shoots her a look. “The hell you aren’t.”
Betti gawps and throws a rolled-up napkin at her.
Betty swats it away. “Slut.”
I bark out a laugh, crouch beside the table, and look at Bette. “You’re supposed to help me with these two.”
She huffs. “You’re on your own. I’m mad at you too.”
I nod solemnly. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. This is the soonest I could get here with my schedule.”
Betty humphs.
I gently pull her chair out, so she has to look at me, then I grin at her. “Can I make it up to you by letting you give me your secret recipe for your Polish coffee cake?”
Betti cackles. “Oh, good luck. She’ll never give that up. I once tossed her whole room looking for it.”
I lean in and rub my head against Betty’s arm like a cat.
“Pleeeease.”
She bursts out laughing and shoves my head away.
“Damn you, Ryan. You’re too cute for your own good.”
I beam at her.
“Now go make my eggs,” she orders.
I stand up and kiss her forehead. “You got it,” I say as I step backward toward the kitchen. “Don’t kill each other while I’m in there.”
Later that night, I finish an extra workout at the team practice facility. The locker room is nearly empty as I peel off my sweat-soaked shirt and glance up at the mirror.
Well, hello there.
