Ten
Christopher had two servings. He also had decent table manners. I’m not sure why that surprised me. Maybe because I kept expecting him to show his true colors and lunge across the table at me, rip my clothes off, and have his way with me.
He didn’t do any of that. All of his concentration was on the food before him. He took a mouthful of the chicken. Then used his utensils to slice a potato. Once the spud was in two, he abandoned it to try one of the roasted vegetables. Then he came back to the potato, paired it with a slice of meat, topped it with a vegetable, and took it all in in one bite.
My food sat untouched. Instead, I watched Christopher eat. I watched his tongue test the drippings of my roast. I watched his eyes close as he chewed. I listened to his groans of satisfaction a
