Livora Gracely

She held the spoon. He washed the plates.
Their baby kept them busy.

Daniel turned off the tap. Mae’s spoon stopped halfway to the baby’s mouth.

At the sink, he looked over his shoulder. At the table, the baby looked past the spoon towards him.

“What happened?” he asked.

“You stopped.”

“I finished rinsing.”

Mae glanced at the spoon, still waiting.

“Someone was watching.”

A Moving Target

The baby sat on Mae’s lap, one small hand holding a fold of her sleeve. She brought the spoon into view again. The mouth opened, then closed when Daniel lifted a plate towards the draining board.

Mae followed the baby’s gaze.

“Apparently, you’re interesting.”

“I’ve been saying that for some time.”

He put the plate down. The baby turned back, and Mae offered the spoon. This time, the food reached its destination. A little remained on the chin, which she wiped before loading the next spoonful.

Their own bowls stood farther along the table. Daniel’s fork lay across his, where he had left it when the baby began reaching for Mae’s sleeve. He had brought the small bowl over, then gathered the plates from their earlier meal.

Now he dried his hands and came to see how things were going. The baby greeted his arrival by opening both hands. Mae kept the bowl beyond their reach.

“Very welcoming,” Daniel said.

“You should see what happens to visitors carrying food.”

Behind the Chair

He stood beside Mae while she offered another spoonful. The baby watched him, so he lowered himself until his face was close to hers.

“Better?”

The spoon went in.

“Stay there,” Mae said.

Daniel remained crouched for a moment, then glanced towards the sink. A saucepan waited in the water. His knees were beginning to object to the arrangement.

“Could I be interesting from a chair?”

Mae moved her bowl slightly to make room. He pulled his chair closer and sat beside them. The baby looked from one face to the other, then returned to the spoon.

For a few mouthfuls, Daniel ate too. Mae took a bite from her own bowl between offerings, and he passed her the cloth when she needed it. When it slipped from the table, he retrieved it before she had to shift the baby.

The saucepan remained where it was.

Changing Places

After a while, the baby turned away from the spoon and leaned against Mae. She set it in the bowl and wiped the small hands, gently freeing the fingers still gripping her sleeve.

Daniel held out his arms.

“Come and inspect this side.”

Mae settled the baby onto his lap. A small palm landed on his shirt, leaving a pale patch near the buttons. He looked down at it, then reached for the cloth.

“You’ve brought your own decoration.”

Mae laughed as she gathered the bowl and spoon. At the sink, she lifted the saucepan he had left soaking and began washing it. Daniel adjusted his chair so the baby could see her without twisting around.

He finished the food in his bowl one-handed. The baby investigated the unoccupied hand.

The Smaller Voice

Water ran briefly, then stopped. This time, the baby hardly noticed. One fist had closed around Daniel’s finger; the other rested against his chest.

Mae placed the saucepan on the draining board and turned towards them. Daniel began to tell her something he had remembered from that morning, but a wide yawn interrupted him.

He lowered his voice and continued. Before he reached the end, the baby’s cheek had settled against his shirt.

Mae came back to the table and sat close enough to brush his sleeve.

“I was listening,” she whispered.

Daniel glanced down at the sleeping face.

“I’m glad somebody was.”