“Yours and mine both,” Joseph added under his breath as he guided her into the dining room, walking slowly backwards into the candlelight space.
He’d placed an intimate setting for two at one end of the table, complete with linens, placemats, and the good dishware he’d ordered from Crate and Barrel once he realized that making Emma eat off of Finding Nemo plates wasn’t exactly the most grown up thing to do. Not that the presentation really mattered to either of them - single parenthood had a habit of making one used to eating at the same level as one’s children. But trying to go the extra effort also helped him feel like he wasn’t just getting by as a parent or a human being anymore; he was actually getting his shit together on a mostly regular basis, and tonight was proof.
His cooking skills weren’t top of the line gourmet by any stretch of the imagination, but he could at least manage a solid steak dinner, which was currently awaiting them on the table. He tried not to look too proud of himself as he let go of Emma’s hands to pull out her chair for her.
“Okay, you can open them,” he told her, before proclaiming, “Tada! Birthday dinner, just for you. With real food that didn’t come in a cardboard box with a packet of orange powder.”