Spoon-fed Book Novelas e Histórias

The unborn child already had a name. Then the first Blood Feather book opened by itself, and the first page showed a drawing of a baby wearing two crowns.

“Until we know if ‘just us’ includes a CEO title.” *1:18 PM. [SFX: PHONE. THEN SUSAN. THEN LAUGHING.]* Kitchen. Lunch. Isla in high chair. Spaghetti. Everywhere. 1 year, 3 weeks, 8 days. Learned to use a spoon. Badly. Ivy on the floor. With Bear. Sharing her spaghetti. Bear licked it. Ivy giggled. Bear sneezed. Ivy giggled harder. Phone. Me. Susan. FaceTime. “Look at you,” Susan said. Screen. Her apartment. Stitches out. Black eye yellow. Smiling. “Domestic. Disgusting. I love it.”

He said, “to warm up your body from the inside.” I accepted the mug of hot creamy coffee. The warmth seeped into my hands. And before I could take a sip, Bran picked up a spoon from the tray, scooped a spoonful and fed me. I was stunned and kept smiling. He fed me two more spoonful before letting me sip the rest on my own. “Are your chins not aching from smiling too much?” Bran asked. I couldn't help the laughter that burst out of me. "What is it? Do I look that funny?" He asked again, smiling.

Little Brian poked his spoon at a piece of carrot on his highchair tray, while Little Valerie simply banged hers with a satisfying thwack on the plate. "Like this, sweethearts," Brian said, his voice soft with encouragement. He leaned over, his own fork forgotten, and guided Little Brian's chubby hand. "Scoop the food. See?" He helped him spear a piece of soft potato. The journey from tray to mouth was a wobbly one, the spoon tilting precariously. A chunk of potato plummeted onto Little Brian's bib, but a single, mushy morsel made it between his lips. A look of profound triumph spread across Little Brian's face. He grinned, a tiny potato star stuck to his chin.

Luna quickly pulled back, sipping the tea to hide the heat rising in her face. “Thank you,” she murmured. They ate in rare, comfortable silence. Not the heavy, suffocating kind she often felt around him, but a silence that felt alive, like the calm hum of a Sunday morning. Bryan’s gaze shifted to the book beside her. He picked it up, flipping through the pages. “What are you reading?” “An old classic,” Luna replied softly. “It helps me forget things.” His brow arched. “Then let me read it to you.”

I admitted sheepishly. She puts off the stove, spoon in hand as she twirls around to face me. A red sauce coated the spoon, its scent making my belly grumble. She walks over to me. "How many times must I say that your stomach comes before books Ashley? Books can wait, I do not want you to starve." She scolds nearing me. I chew on my plump bottom lip and looked down in shame,feeling like a little kid. "I know mommy. This one was just-" I looked for a word to describe the book I had yet to finish.

I shake my head. “Don’t worry, you’ll fit right in here,” Callan says. “Spoons are entirely optional.” With a smile, he drops his spoon and picks up his bowl, lifting it to his mouth to slurp from the edge. That’s what I did with Mama on the occasion we ate from bowls. I’m instantly relieved that they know the logical way to eat, and I’m so hungry I don’t want to pick up one tiny bite at a time with the spoon instrument. I pick up my bowl and let the food pour into my mouth. I chew, slurp and devour the meat and bones and broth.

Pulling away from her, Ryan took the food and started feeding her. “Open your mouth ah” Ryan said as he moved a spoon towards her mouth. Seeing this, she felt like a baby and in an effort to offset the discomfort took the spoon in her hands. Smiling softly, Ryan watched her take the spoon, something he was not prepared to let go. “Come on baby, open your mouth, I want to feed you.” Ryan said as he moved his lips towards hers and in a flurry of actions, she let go of the spoon.

Her hair was bright pink, her nails painted black, and she wore a T‑shirt that said “Books Before Boys.” “You’re new,” she said, handing me my drink. “Is it that obvious?” “You have that look. The ‘I just moved here and I don’t know anyone’ look.” She leaned on the counter. “I had it too, two years ago. It fades.” I laughed. “How long did it take?” “About a week. Then I found the book club.” “Book club?” She grabbed a flyer from under the counter and handed it to me. “Tuesday nights. The Spined Fox bookstore. We read everything from literary fiction to trashy romance. No judgment.”