Paying Her Dues - Page 40

He stays kneeling and holds me in his arms, pressing his ear to my belly, holding me close. “I love you. And I’m never letting you go.”

I wrap my arms around him in return, gently caressing the short hair at the nape of his neck. But before I can say something beautiful in return, my stomach answers for me, rumbling out a big, ungraceful growl right against his ear.

I cringe. “Sorry!”

Mike laughs into my stomach. I can’t see his eyes, but I can see the lovely smile lines that make my heart ache with happiness. “Let’s get you something to eat, baby girl. Anything you want.”

“You’re what I want, Daddy,” I say, keeping him close. “Always.”

“You’ve got me, little one. Forever.”

* * *

Inside in thecool kitchen now. Mike opens the refrigerator, and I scan the stocked shelves. Plump blackberries, fresh peaches, this amazing French yogurt in these adorable little glass containers, olives, and these delightful little peppers stuffed with mozzarella and pepperoni.

But none of it really does it for me. I scan my mental inventory of snacks. A lot has changed in the last few weeks, and especially how free I feel to eat like a human being. “Do you have any…”

I search my body, trying to think of what it is I’m hungry for. And then it hits me. I find there’s one thing I am really, really craving. And it honestly makes no sense. “Do you have… any celery?”

Mike spins around, looking puzzled. “Have any…what?”

I look down at my stomach, feeling equally mystified. I press my now dazzlingly ringed hand to my growling tummy and look up at Mike. “I’ve never had a craving so strong for anything in my life.”

Who looks at me, blinking. I can’t really read his expression. Something between smug and happy, but I can’t imagine why. “A craving,” he says slowly. “For celery.”

I nod at him. Creamy peanut butter. Sweet raisins. And cool, crispy sticks of nutritionless fiber. “Celery. Isn’t that…weird?”

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