“Go wash up, please,” Kallie says to me, and Ethan pushes away from the table, putting away his homework and walking into the little bathroom on the side to wash his hands. “Can you get me three plates, please?” she asks, and I walk over and grab three plates for her. I look at the baked mac and cheese and lean in to kiss her neck.

She scoops out three plates and leaves it to sit for a second to cool off while she sets the table. “Where does everyone sit?” She looks at me, not wanting to sit in Ethan’s or my place and it be awkward.

I’m about to tell her that she can sit anywhere when Ethan pipes in. “I sit here.” He points at the chair where he was just sitting in to do his homework. “And Dad sits there.” His hand moves to the head of the table. “And Grandma sits here.” He points at the chair next to him. “You can sit in front of me and next to Dad.”

She looks at him with a smile. “That sounds like a good plan.”

He gets in his chair, and Kallie puts his plate down in front of him and another plate down where I’m going to sit. I wait for her to get her own plate and come to the table. She sits down and looks at me. “Do we say grace?”

Again, Ethan pipes up. “I can say grace,” he says, and we join hands. “Bless this food that Kallie made and bless the apple pie.”

I try not to laugh, and we all say, “Amen.”

Dinner goes smoothly even though Kallie barely eats anything. She just pushes things around on her plate, and I look at her when Ethan asks for a second serving. She’s about to get up when I put my hand on hers. “I’ll get it. You eat.” I point at her, and she smiles tightly.

Ethan tells her all about football and the positions he plays, and he tells her about his favorite subject in school, which is gym, and how he hates math. When he finishes eating his two plates, he brings his plate over to the sink and puts it on the counter. “Can we have pie now?”

“How about you go take a shower and let the pie cool?” I say, and he starts to frown.

“I think it’ll be better cooler,” Kallie says, getting up. “This way, the ice cream won’t melt when I put the scoop on it.”

His eyes go big. “Ice cream and pie?”

Kallie throws up her hands. “Well, yeah, silly, how else do you eat apple pie?”

“Not like that,” he says and looks at me. “Why haven’t I had it like that?”

“I have no idea,” I say and then look at Kallie, who is putting the dishes in the dishwasher, “but go shower, and we can have it.”