Page 158 of Clinically Delicious
“I hate all of you,” Cate said, but I could see her mouth twitching.
“And the broken arm,” Nathan continued. “Oh my God, the broken arm. ‘I should have suggested rollerblades.’ Like that would have prevented a five-year-old from breaking something.”
“Children fall,” Julien said, speaking for the first time since Ms. Rodriguez had left. “It’s what they do. It’s practically their primary function.”
“Thank you, Julien,” I said.
“Though I have to say,” he continued, “the part where you told her about your ‘other bedroom activities’ was inspiring. Really set the tone for the entire visit.”
“I didn’t mean to say that!” Cate wailed.
“And yet you did,” Fitz said, wiping tears from his eyes. “You absolutely did. In front of a woman here to judge your fitness as a parent.”
“I’m going to stress-bake,” Cate announced. “I’m going to stress-bake until I can’t remember any of this.”
“Please don’t,” Nathan said. “The kitchen is finally clean. It took me fifteen minutes to load that dishwasher. Do you know how many mixing bowls you own? It’s excessive. You have a mixing bowl problem.”
“I like to bake!”
“Clearly.”
Megan tugged on my hand. “Daddy? Is everything okay?”
I looked down at her, at her big eyes and her slightly mussed braids and her cast-covered arm.
My daughter.
My family.
Everything I’m fighting for.
“Everything’s fine, sweetheart,” I said, picking her up and holding her close. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
I hoped I was right.
Because the truth was, I had no idea if we’d passed or failed.
No idea if Ms. Rodriguez had seen through our panic to the real family underneath.
No idea if Cate’s ninja dream confession and my colleagues’ barely suppressed laughter had cost us everything.
All I knew was that we’d survived the visit.
And now we had to wait.
