"At midnight you can clean it," she said when he mentioned the mess with a grin. She had planned on cleaning it herself before then, but she wasn't going to admit it. At least not yet.
"Did I ask what all those meals were?" she asked, pouting slightly. Then she shook her head quickly, "Don't answer that." She knew she had. She always questioned him, making him explain himself. But he had encouraged it. She wasn't encouraging this. She gestured to the table. "Sit down and fine out." On the table she'd made what she hoped was edible - not burnt or rare inside - steaks and potatoes with tea. It was, from what she knew, his favorite meal or at least chose enough. The cake was still cooling on the counter, in plain sight.