Healing Hearts (New Hope Falls #6) - Kimberly Rae Jordan Page 0,57
her hand on Bryson’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go wash your hands, baby?”
“Are you eating supper with us, Ryker?” Bryson asked.
“Yep. I just need to clean this up.” Ryker looked at her. “Do I have a few minutes?”
Sophia nodded. “It usually takes Bryson a little bit cleaned up.”
Bryson skipped ahead of her into the kitchen, where he climbed up on a chair to wash his hands. All the while, he happily chatted about Ryker and the flowers.
“Okay if I wash up in the bathroom?” Ryker asked from the door of the kitchen.
“Definitely,” Sophia said as she carried the mashed potatoes to the table.
By the time Ryker reappeared, Bryson had finished washing up and was seated at the table. She had the food on the table but was trying to figure out if it was enough. There was no salad or buns. It was plenty for her and Bryson, but Ryker might expect more.
“Smells delicious,” he said, as if reading her mind. “So much better than the TV dinner I’d probably be eating at my place.”
“Hope meatloaf is okay.” She poured water into her glass, then said, “Would you like milk or water?”
“Water is fine,” he said. “And meatloaf is more than okay.”
“Can I get the ketchup, Momma?”
“Oh. Sure, baby.”
Bryson slid off his chair and came back with the large bottle they kept in the fridge.
“That’s almost as big as you, buddy,” Ryker said with a laugh.
“I like ketchup on meatwoaf.”
Sophia took the bottle from him and set it on the table. “Meatloaf, baby.”
Once they were all seated, Sophia had a moment’s hesitation, as she often did, where her instinct was to say a prayer. That had always been something her family had done, and it had definitely been part of every meal in the compound. Habits were hard to break, and it wasn’t that she necessarily wanted to break the habit. She just wasn’t sure how to approach things that had been part of their life in such a traumatic place.
Part of her kind of hoped that, if they had a long stretch of not doing things like praying before meals or going to church services, the memory of them would fade enough that he wouldn’t assume she was making him do the same things that Ezekiel had forced them to do.
Was it the right decision? Her parents would likely say no, but they didn’t know the scope of what she and Bryson had endured in the compound.
The one time she’d taken Bryson to the service shortly after they’d arrived back in New Hope, he’d refused to go to junior church with the other children, but then he’d begun to shake and cry softly as the service had gotten underway. It had been too much for her to handle, so she’d carried him out, and they hadn’t gone back since.
Instead of making a decision on praying for the food that day, she slid the plate of meatloaf toward Ryker.
“Go ahead and serve yourself and Bryson,” he said in response.
Sophia put a piece of meatloaf on Bryson’s plate, then once again slid it in Ryker’s direction before picking up the bowl of potatoes. “By the time I get Bryson’s food ready, you’ll have time to dish yourself up.”
Ryker took the meatloaf, then said, “You can’t always put yourself last, Sophia.”
“I look at it as just being practical,” she responded, keeping her gaze on Bryson’s plate. “And when you’re a single mom, putting your child first automatically means putting yourself last. It’s just how it has to be right now.”
There were times when some of the things Ryker said made her wonder about him. Like, for all that her dad loved her mom, she didn’t think she’d ever heard him say something like that to her. They were a team, and he did as much as he could for the family when he wasn’t working. Sometimes her mom served herself last. Sometimes her dad did. From what she could remember, it was usually just a matter of practicality.
Still, it made her wonder how Ryker might treat his wife…the mother of his children.
Which really wasn’t something she should be thinking about.
As if realizing it wasn’t a subject she was all that keen to be discussing, Ryker turned his attention to Bryson again. “Is meatloaf your favorite, Bryson?”
Sophia glanced up from where she was cutting his piece of meatloaf in time to see Bryson wrinkle his nose and shake his head. “Only with ketchup.”