“Oh my goodness, I’d eat a third bowl of that soup if I wasn’t so stuffed.” Marie licks her lips and looks down at her empty bowl.

“It really is delicious.” Jackson smiles over at me.

“Thank you. I’m so happy you enjoyed it. My grandmother used to make it for us all the time.” I fondly remember how she would let me roll up the meatballs after I had carefully washed my hands while she let the broth simmer and got the other ingredients, the rice and vegetables, prepared.

“Daddy, I like your soup too, the one you make with alphabets in it. But this one is better,” Chloe chimes in as she scoops the last bits of rice from her bowl.

Jackson and his mother laugh. “Well, that alphabet soup is also an old family recipe,” Marie chuckles.

“That’s right,” Jackson agrees. “I learned how to open that can and dump the soup in the pot from the best chef in the business,” he teases him mother.

I try to imagine how my abuela would handle us eating soup from a can, but I have to blink the scowling face free from my mind. I’m pretty sure that just the thought has her spinning in her grave.

“Well, it’s been so lovely to sit and share this with you.” I stand up and begin to clear the table, but Jackson abruptly pops out of his chair and plucks them from my hand.

“Relax, you cooked the meal. I’ve got the cleanup.”

For a second I’m so confused I just stand frozen, like my brain can’t understand the simple words he’s saying. For so long I’ve made all the meals and waited for Raymond and Sylvia to stop complaining about my cooking long enough to eat so I could tidy up after them. I wasn’t permitted to sit at the table with them. Instead, I was allowed to eat leftovers, when there were some, after I had finished my chores for the day.

“Take a load off, Ella.” Marie nods down to my chair. “You deserve a break.”

I slowly ease back down onto my seat, but it’s still strange to watch Jackson clear the table. Uneasiness rises inside me, like clouds building before a storm. It’s just difficult to go from such a regimented life where fear was a constant to this. I’m definitely not complaining, it’s just going to take some getting used to.

Jackson carries a handful of dishes out of the room as I let my muscles unwind and lean back in my chair. I gaze over at his mother, who’s been so incredibly welcoming. Every time I look at her, she’s smiling.

“At Thanksgiving I’ll cook for you.” She rests her forearms on the table, leaning in toward me. “I can’t wait to make you a big ol’ turkey with all the sides. I’m sure you’ve had a bunch of Thanksgivings here by now, but you wait until you try my cornbread stuffing. I mean, if I’m honest, Jackson makes the turkey and my guests bring most of the sides, but that stuffing is the one dish I know I can knock your socks off with.” She beams.

“I’ve never had a Thanksgiving meal.” I try to imagine sitting down to such a feast, but that much food seems impossible to eat all in one meal.

“Really?” Marie tilts her head. “Well then, that’s going to have to change this year.”

“I’d love that.”

“Nana, can I have my bath now?” Chloe interrupts, clearly bored by our conversation. “I got soup all over my arms and face, so I should probably have a bubble bath… with my dolphin toy!”

“Oh, sure, honey. I think I can get that set up for you.”

Jackson comes back into the dining room just as his mother helps Chloe from the table and I stand back up. It’s one thing to sit and relax while there are other people sitting here with me, but there’s no way I’m just going to rest on my butt while Jackson does all the work.

“Here, let me help.” I grab a bunch of cutlery and glasses and head out to the kitchen before he has a chance to stop me.

Jackson follows me in with the last of the dirty dishes and I begin to take them from him, piling them beside the sink where I already put mine down. “It won’t take me long to wash up.” I start running the water and pushing the plug down into the drain.

“Hey, don’t worry about the dishes.” He slides up behind me, wrapping one arm around my waist and turning off the water with his other hand.

“It’s no bother. Besides, I don’t want to sponge off of you.” I turn to face him and a flicker of pain flashes over his face like a lightning bolt.

“Sponge off me? Is that what you think you’re doing? Ella, listen.” He cups my face in his hands. “Just because you’re living here doesn’t mean you have to be cooking and cleaning all the time. I mean, that meal was amazing, but I don’t want you thinking that’s how you have to cook all the time, okay? You’re not my servant, you’re my woman, and I’m not going to kick you out or treat you like shit because you didn’t do the dishes or something.” Anger seeps from his voice about how I’ve been living since I came to this country.

“I understand,” I whisper. “It’s just going to take some time to get used to this, that’s all.”

“I get that.” Jackson lifts my jaw and gives me a slow, sensual kiss. My eyelids flutter closed and I sink into him. He steps back from me and slides a lock of my hair behind my ear. “Besides, I have the only dishwasher I need right here.” He pats the silver door under the counter. “I can think of much more exciting things to occupy your time than housework.” He grinds into me shamelessly.

Heat splashes over my cheeks, my breathing immediately growing shallow with desire. “I’d like to learn what those things are.” I bite my lip.

“Mmmm, once we have some quiet time I intend to show you.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “But right now, I’m going to load up the dishwasher and start getting things put away because I think we should try to have an early night, and with all the things I plan to do to you, that means we’ll have to get to bed right after Chloe drifts off.”

“Why? Is there something going on tomorrow?”

“There is, but that’s my surprise for you. So you’ll just have to wait and see.” Jackson steals the questions from my lips with another kiss and I let them flutter away.

I trust him. If he wants to surprise me with something, I’m sure it will be amazing.