Chapter Six #2
As a result, she’d had Brooke completely wrapped around her finger since the day Brooke had given birth.
Since the day Brooke had learned that she was pregnant with Anna’s baby, honestly.
“Ready?” Brooke asked softly. A look over her shoulder told her that Anna had already drifted back to sleep.
At least she had managed to pull on her tank top, Brooke thought as she let their daughter lead them towards their kitchen.
“Can we do shapes today?” Amelia asked. She was referring to the sandwich cutter set that Anna had picked up for the house over two years ago, amused beyond belief that sandwiches could come in so many shapes.
They had always used the shapes for their French toast—their Sunday tradition—but Brooke was a fan of asking for permission for things and wanted to encourage that behavior.
“I think shapes sound like a great idea. What shapes were you thinking?” She already knew.
Amelia would want the dinosaur shape, Isaac would want the unicorn head, and Anna would want the heart.
Brooke, as the official taste tester for the entire house would get at least one of each. “Alright, Ames, you grab the eggs. I’ll grab the up high stuff and your stool. How’s that sound?”
Brooke watched from a nervously close, but respectfully supportive distance while Amelia worked to flip the French toast over on the stove.
For the past few months, she and Anna had been trying to let Amelia do everything more independently, which included the kitchen.
Knives were still a little taboo, but with Brooke at an arms distance, flipping over the French toast had become Amelia’s new favorite thing.
Brooke was fairly certain that Amelia enjoyed the cooking of the French toast more than she enjoyed the toast, but she wasn’t going to press the issue.
Watching Amelia’s delighted smile every time she successfully flipped a piece was enough to drag Brooke out of bed at five-oh-seven in the morning.
“Good flip, Baby,” Brooke said, laughing as Amelia did a little happy dance. “Want me to put powdered sugar on this stack?”
Amelia nodded. “Yes, please.”
And so they worked, side by side until they had cooked four big stacks of French toast. Their efforts had barely taken more than an hour.
It was still about thirty minutes too early to wake Anna up if Brooke didn’t want her to have brain fog all day, but Isaac would probably be thrilled to get his French toast a little early today.
“Want to turn the burner off for me?” Brooke asked. This was the part that still terrified her, but Amelia was six, and genuinely brilliant. She’d turned the knob off before.
Brooke couldn’t maintain her serious disposition though as Amelia’s tongue poked out through the gap in her front teeth. There’d never be another time in her life when she’d have such an adorable concentration face, and Brooke wanted to soak up every second of it.
When the stove top was safely out, Brooke held up her fist for Amelia to fist bump. Her daughter had learned how to fist bump in school and to give or receive a fist bump was treated like a high honor in the Fourchette household. Amelia seemed rather pleased with herself for earning one.
“Okay,” Brooke said, smiling at her daughter and their handiwork. “Want to go wake up Isaac?”
Amelia’s grin could have powered the whole planet, it was filled with so much energy. “Yeah.”
“Alright, go get him. But be gentle,” Brooke threw in a stern look for good measure. Amelia had a habit of jumping on her younger brother not fully understanding that he was two years younger and quite a bit smaller than she was.
While Amelia sprinted down the hall to her little brother’s room, Brooke moved the plates of French toast over to the table. She had made everyone eggs and bacon while Amelia had created actual powdered sugar masterpieces.
She listened for a second, smiling when she heard the sounds of her kids laughing together. Determining she had enough time, she put away all the unused ingredients.
Brooke paused before she opened the refrigerator and took a second to stare at two newspaper clippings that had been magnetized to the front of the door.
The first was the original newspaper article for La Fourchette.
The very same article that had made Brooke want to try Anna’s restaurant in the first place.
The second was the Chronicle’s ten year anniversary follow up.
Anna had insisted that Brooke join her for one of the photos.
That was the picture they had stuck to the door along with the caption, “I can’t imagine my life without La Fourchette.
It’s brought me so many wonderful memories, friends, and even a wife.
” Somewhere deep in the article there were a few sentences about the table that remained reserved for the chef’s family and closest friends.
That Monday, Brooke parked in the tiny lot reserved for La Fourchette employees. Chris and Viv pulled in to the space next to her. Most of the staff took public transit, so Anna had insisted years ago that her favorite trio put some of the empty spaces to use.
“Hey,” Brooke said, stepping out of her car.
“Thanks for still coming even though our sitter had to cancel.” She opened the back door and helped Isaac get out of his car seat.
They had managed to make it to the restaurant without needing a shirt change.
Her son had a super power: the ability to get fruit juice on every shirt he owned.
Chris was already lifting a laughing Amelia high into the air. “Are you kidding? You know I love Auntie time.”
Vivienne smiled at her wife and Brooke’s heart melted.
She wasn’t sure why she was feeling so nostalgic today, maybe it was something about the seasons changing, or the fact that they were just a few months out from Isaac’s fifth birthday, but she couldn’t help but wish this moment could last longer.
“You might be getting too big for this,” Christine said as she spun in circles with Amelia in her arms.
Vivienne rounded the cars to give Brooke a hug and to do her secret handshake with Isaac. Brooke laughed at the fact that Vivienne Carlisle of all people had a secret handshake with a four year old. She never would have thought any of this was possible.
They all made their rowdy way in through the back door of La Fourchette. Brooke had to remind her kids to not sprint through the establishment in search of their momma. Thankfully, they were excited that they got to walk through holding their Aunts’ hands this time.
Brooke slipped her phone out of her pocket and snapped a few photos of her favorite people walking ahead of her through her wife’s restaurant.
Nick, who was waiting for them at their reserved table, was on his feet immediately when he saw the kids. “What? I didn’t know you were bringing the cool crowd tonight.” He wrapped Amelia and Isaac up in a big group hug.
“Rude,” Vivienne shot, though she hadn’t stopped smiling since they had parked.
“You know it’s true,” he said, pointing at Isaac’s shirt. “Lil man is rocking a dinosaur shirt. He’s way cooler than us.” He helped Isaac climb up into the seat beside him.
Anna smiled at Brooke from across the room and Brooke’s heart leapt in her chest. She watched as her wife wrapped up the conversation she was having with a table of patrons before beelining it over to the table filled with their chosen family.
“My babies,” she said, kissing Isaac and Amelia on top of their heads. “Hey, Honey-B,” she added, giving Brooke a chaste kiss. “How was your day?”
“Perfect,” Brooke said, stealing another quick kiss.
“Oh yeah? You mean that?” Anna asked, sliding into the seat next to Brooke so that she could chat with everyone for a few minutes.
“Yeah, I really do."