“This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten.”

I moved over to sit beside her as Dominic toyed with her hair.

“Does it make up for that baking… mishap?”

“Mishap? That was deliberate poisoning.”

“It was the tiniest pinch of nutmeg known to mankind.”

“I still tasted it.”

Yes, she had. Then demanded I remake the apple turnovers without it.

“I will never try to expand your taste buds again.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” she said, leaning into me.

Saff - 3 years

“There’s something wrong with this coffee,” I said, waddling out of my office to put my strawberry mug—one of ten I now kept stocked at my coffee station—down on my assistant’s desk.

Her name was Gina, and she was an old girlfriend of Teresa’s who’d taken twenty years off of work to raise six children. To say she was capable of handling any catastrophe—whether real or made-up thanks to my own overreacting—was an understatement.

“The coffee is just fine,” she said with a wave of her dainty wrist, sending no fewer than four gold bracelets jangling.

“It tastes funny.”

“Maybe your taste buds are funky.”

I could always tell Gina was bullshitting me when she started shuffling things around on her desk. Just like she was right then.

“What’d you do to my coffee?”

“Made you a fresh cup like the intuitive, capable, and kind assistant I am,” she said, that accent of hers getting thicker as she spoke. “Heaven forbid I do my job.”

“Gina…”

“What?” she barked, tone fake-exasperated, tossing her long wavy brown hair.

“Why does the coffee that has tasted the exact same for the past few years suddenly taste different?” It was milder, less bitter.

“Listen, I’ve been in your shoes six times, miss ma’am. And that last time, I did it with five kids already tugging at my apron strings. But we still have to make smart decisions about what we put in our bodies.”

“Didn’t you tell me that during your first pregnancy you ate nothing but garlic knots and brownie batter ice cream?”

“Yes, well, you know better, you do better. I am imparting my hard-earned wisdom on you.”

“It’s decaf, isn’t it?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at her.

“You drink too much coffee.”

“I’ve cut down.”

“Your ‘cut down’ is a normal person’s consumption after being awake for forty-eight hours straight.”

“Decaf is gross.”

“Caffeine can cause small babies.”

“Well, this baby,” I said, pressing a hand to my stomach, “is measuring large for this stage in development.”