"I've beaten him three times. Four isn't a problem," Kate said. She filled a big basket with vegetables, and Michael picked up a prep bin with meat, wine, onions, garlic, fruit, flour, eggs, and pretty much everything else. Kate admired how strong Michael still was, even after all these years.
"Kate," he said quietly as they worked. "I appreciate all the help with the boys, but, would they be upset if I..I hired someone? To help, I mean? I want them to know what its like to have a home--their home. And a dad--as much as I can figure out how to be one."
"Michael," Kate looked up at him. "I think that makes you a wonderful dad already. I think its great that you want to hire someone. It certainly sounds like its for all the right reasons. And it doesn't mean that the kids are any less welcome here. You know that. I think its a fine choice. Nobody's going to take offense at that. Besides, at our age, who the hell worries about offense anymore? And, besides, I'm three potatoes ahead of you."
"Not for long," he laughed. "Besides, see there? You missed a spot."
"Where?" she frowned, picking up the potato. He showed her a spot on the potato while he was dumping four carrots in her basket while she wasn't looking. She was busy wiping off the smudge that he had said was the spot she missed.
Marcus picked up the last of the dishes and put them back on the tray. He'd added a couple towels around her leg in case the incisions bled more while she was sleeping. Then he'd added a bit more of the potion to Khaat's drink than what Robert had recommended, but Marcus was no stranger to pain potion. He knew it would do no more than to help her sleep. She was sleeping, finally. He sent the tray back downstairs and sat down finally, the first in what felt like hours. His own head was pounding, and everything was spinning. He had been half tempted to take some of the pain potion himself, but it had taken forever to get her this far. He wasn't going off duty now. He wasn't leaving her. It was important.
Kate saw the tray come back downstairs, sufficiently empty. Evidently he'd gotten her to eat. Good for him.
"Maybe we're on the mend," she said to Michael.
"I think so," Michael said, dumping two more potatoes in her basket. He glanced over and frowned. Why did it look like there were a lot more freaking berries in his bin than there had been? When had that happened?