“My father always insisted on slicing the meat for holiday dinners; he taught me. He used to joke it was the only thing he knew how to do in the kitchen without my mother’s help.”
She nodded, seemingly deep in thought.
“I’m not sure I’ve told you yet how much what you’ve done today means to me.”
“It’s nothing.” Her demeanor shifted, and she smiled. “Besides, I’m always willing to be on the receiving end of oral sex.”
Were we really back to this? A sex joke to avoid a serious discussion was classic Bella.
“I’m serious,” I said.
“I know.” She sighed. “I shouldn’t have made light of your sentiment. It’s just hard for me.”
“Talking about emotion?”
“No.” She averted her eyes and shook her head. “Receiving praise.”