Hungry for More (2012) by Chelsea Scott, D. Oland, J. Welch Read Free Book Online

him in?”
    “Yeah. Please…” Paul said, distracted as he fooled around with a different pan. Bridget left him while she went back to the living room to collect her charge. She took Tad to wash his hands and then led him back to the table. Paul was just loading down the plate with a pile of sizzling homemade potato chips.
    “Here you go,” Paul said, sounding hopeful as he sat the dish in front of his son. “I kept it simple this time.”
    Bridget bit her lip as she waited for Tad’s reaction. She silently prayed that it wouldn’t be as bad as breakfast! She didn’t want to repeat that disaster again.
    “What is it?” Tad asked, prodding the bread with his finger.
    Bridget was about to reassure him that it was merely a hot ham and cheese sandwich- but Paul beat her to the pass.
    “It’s a uckish -monsieur ,” he told his son.
    As Bridget had feared, the little boy’s features instantly screwed up in suspicion and disgust.
    “A what ?”
    She turned to take in Paul’s expression. His cheeks were coloring. She feared that another burst of temper was coming on. She couldn’t imagine how hard he had worked to think of something that the little boy would love! She was desperate to prevent the scene which looked about to unspool, and so she blurted without thinking:
    “A croak-monsieur,” she told the little boy. “Daddy made it special for Frog.”
    “Frog?” Paul and Tad both asked at the same time.
    Bridget spoke quickly, desperate to smooth things over. “Yes…for Mr. Frog. Here…let me give him his plate.”
    Paul looked at Bridget as though he thought she was insane when she pretended to pick a separate plate up off of the counter and then mimed setting it down in the space at Atherton’s right.
    “See!” she exclaimed happily. “He loves it! Don’t you Frog? Oh, FROG! Don’t eat so fast- you’ll get a tummy ache!”
    Tad giggled at his nanny’s feigned annoyance, and so she kept it up. “FROG! You’re getting that all over your clothes! Slow down! I’m sure that Daddy will make you another!”
    “Yes…” Paul said, picking up on Bridget’s idea. “Here you go…” he pretended to sprinkle something over the imaginary bread. “I made you one with extra flies.”
    “There are flies in croak-mushyour?” Tad said, looking wary again.
    Paul looked to Bridget, his gaze anxious and questioning.
    “Er…only on Frog’s sandwich,” she decided. This seemed to be the correct response.
    “What is in it?” Tad asked, still unconvinced.
    Bridget deferred to Paul.
    “Parma-!” he began, but then stopped himself. “Er… ham ,” he said, without any descriptors, “and cheese and butter and bread.”
    Tad considered. “I like bread and cheese. Do I like ham, N anny?”
    “Yes, dear,” she said, encouragingly. She was relieved when he took a tiny nibble from the corner.
    She and Paul both waited breathlessly for the verdict. It was given when Tad took a second bite.
    “I think Frog is right, N anny,” he said happily, “croak-mushyours are good to eat.” He turned toward his father. “May I have some flies after all please?”
    No one could resist Tad when he was being this angelic, Bridget thought. Her heart felt warm and pleasantly full at the sight of the four-year - old’s smile. She didn’t know how a world famous chef was going to react to being asked to add flies to a sandwich. She was delighted when Paul got his response just right.
    “I only have invisible flies,” he apologized. “I didn’t know that you’d want some…Are you sure that Frog is okay with sharing his flies?”
    “Of course, Daddy!” Tad answered with a serious expression. “He’ll let you give them to me!”
    Paul nodded and then pretended to put a liberal sprinkling of invisible flies on top of Tad’s sandwich. “Extra crunchy,” he told him, “Just the way that I like them.”
    Tad laughed again, and then went back to eating his sandwich. He even dared to pop a chip into his mouth