Lib Novel Page 187
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EVERYTHING FOR BLIP
DAISY
I open the door to find Dave standing before me with a bag.
“Dave, please tell Mrs. K not to worry so much. I hate giving her this much trouble, especially when her hard work is literally going down the toilet.”
But unlike my irritated face, Dave’s smile couldn’t be brighter.
“Today, we have something special, Daisy.” He hands me the bag and steps inside. “Also, I have clear instructions to not leave until you’ve tried it and have hopefully finished everything.”
“Mrs. K is giving new meaning to the word care.”
“Among other people.” Dave grins before settling onto the dining chair across me.
My hand shakes in nervousness as I open the bag. As much as I’m loving the care and affection I’ve received the past few weeks, I hate to be the biggest disappointment.
So much wonderful food has gone to waste that I worry I might have volunteers fighting against world hunger at my doorstep soon.
Please, my little blip, be a good champ and let’s not disappoint Mrs. K once again.
But every thought evaporates from my mind at the sight of the pink paper napkin I’d ordered for Charles months ago.
How?
Before my shock can find an audible voice, Dave places his phone face-first onto the table. The green light indicating a live call blinks a few times. I look up at him and he gives me a smile, the same one he used to show whenever I would say something mean about Charles before we got married.
Charles!
Oh my God. Did he help Mrs. K pack this?
I remember Dave’s words from five seconds before. He’s been instructed to not leave until I’ve tried the food.
By whom? Charles?
My anxiety is at full throttle as I take out the food.
I grab the cutlery Mrs. K always packs with the meals and open the glass box.
For the first time this week, the warm smell of cheese and veggies is appetizing, but it’s not just the smell. Unlike the other meals, there’s no special garnish. The tasty food is placed in a simple fashion. In fact, too simple.
I cut the quesadilla, only to realize it’s not perfectly round.
This is not Mrs. K’s work.
My gaze snaps back to Dave, who’s waiting in anticipation, and then to the phone that is still intermittently blinking.
What in God’s name?
Charles A. Hawthorne stepped into his kitchen and cooked! For me!
“So how is it?” Dave asks, and I’m sure it’s more for Charles’ benefit so he knows the call is still running.
I take a bite, and for a second, I forget everything because it’s heavenly. I don’t wait to reply and take another bite.
“How did that miracle happen?” Willow squeals as she enters the room.