The Baby Bet

Grace crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. “Seriously?”

“Here comes the airplane!” Pearce replied, grinning broadly.

Glaring a little more, Grace repeated, “Seriou-Mmph!”

She was interrupted by a spoonful of cold baby food that Pearce stuck in her mouth. It tasted vaguely of bland, unsalted vegetable, and a little got on her lips while the rest of the spoon ended up in her mouth.

Swallowing, Grace said, “You are going to get tired of this so fast. Why are you even bothering?”

“Because,” Pearce said, smirking and waggling his eyebrows. “I have to take care of my little baby! Now, open wiiiide-”

Grace obeyed this time, opening her mouth to accept the next spoonful of food. It wasn’t the worst thing she’d ever eaten, just kind of vaguely bad nothing. She was more annoyed by everything else - Pearce had acquired a bib from somewhere that was her size, stacked up her chair on some books, and even found a tray attachment that clicked to the arm rests, all to make it into a proper ‘high’ chair.

“Say ‘Aaah’,” Pearce said, scraping together another spoonful from the jar and lifting it up.

Grace complied, swallowed, and asked, “Just how much of this do I have to eat?”

“Well, in order to make sure you’ve got all the nutrients a growing baby needs… about four jars,” he said.

“Ugh.” Grace opened her mouth to swallow another spoonful.

While they were eating, Skip waltzed in, glancing at the two of them. Pointing at Grace, they said, “You’ve got a little, uh…”

“I’ve got it,” Pearce said, reaching over and taking Grace’s bib, using it to wipe the baby food off her face.

“Pearce!” Grace objected, leaning back a little. “You don’t have to- I can- Woah!”

One of the four precarious stack of books used to prop up her ‘high’ chair shifted, and she started to fall back in the seat. Pearce jumped forward, grabbing the chair and catching her before she could fall.

“Skip? A little help?” he grunted, one arm around Grace, the other on her chair. Skip crouched and slid the books back into place, stabilizing the chair.

“Close one,” Grace said.

“No more fussing,” Pearce chided, tapping her nose with the baby food spoon. “Next time I’m going to let you fall!”

Grace rolled her eyes. “You wouldn’t.”

He shook his head. “I wouldn’t. But seriously, don’t wiggle around too much. If you’re good for the rest of the meal, I might even give you a pudding cup.”

“Fiiine.” Grace opened her mouth, eating another spoonful of the baby food.

Skip rolled their eyes and went back to preparing their own lunch; a microwave dinner from the freezer. It smelled delicious, chicken and gravy and potatoes, though the smell probably only seemed so good in context - Most things smelled better than cold, mushy peas.

Normally, Grace would try to make conversation, but given that any time she had her mouth open for more than a few seconds it was filled with baby food, that was a little difficult. Pearce did give her an occasional break to drink from a clear baby bottle - just water, but it was still annoying to drink at a slow trickle.

When Skip’s food was done, they took it out of the microwave, pulling off the plastic film and leaving it on the counter. Grace cringed, wanting to toss the trash in the bin so it wouldn’t attract insects, but she didn’t want to make a fuss about it and she couldn’t just get up out of her chair while she was being fed.

(I’ll get it in a minute.)

“You put a lot of effort into this,” Skip commented to Pearce, between bites of their own meal.

Pearce looked back at her as he got the last bit of baby food from the next jar. “Well, yeah. Some people think I’m just a lazy slacker, but those people are still struggling with using the potty, so I don’t think their opinions are particularly reliable.”

“I’m not struggling, I’mmmph!” Grace objected, muted by another spoonful of food.

“You’ll get it some day,” Pearce teased. “Just as soon as you admit you’ve lost the bet.”

“Yeah, not gonna happen.” Grace glowered.

Pearce took her bib and wiped her face again, getting the bit of baby food off her nose. “We’ll see about that. Coffee?”

Grace was caught off guard by the question. “Huh?”

“It’s a beverage,” Pearce supplied, helpfully. Grace rolled her eyes, and he added, “You usually have a cup with lunch. Do you want some?”

She was surprised by the offer. Grace had expected she would mostly be drinking water and probably milk for the next day or so, but she was happy to take him up on the offer. “Yes please.”

“How do you like it again?” He asked, setting a bottle of water on her tray. “You can work on that while I make it.”

“The blue pods, a little of the oat creamer I’ve got in the top drawer,” Grace supplied, pointing and picking up her bottle, rinsing out the taste of baby food.

Pearce popped the single-serving pod into the coffee maker and stuck a plastic bottle beneath the dispenser, setting it to run.

While it brewed, he went to the fridge and got out the creamer and a chocolate pudding cup, which he set down on her ‘high chair’ tray. He poured a little creamer into the bottle of coffee, sealed the lid, and returned the creamer to the fridge.

“You left the pod in the coffee maker,” Grace pointed out.

“Yeah,” Pearce said. “It’s still hot and drippy, if I take it out now it’ll get coffee on the counter.”

(So use a towel to catch the drips.) Grace rolled her eyes. “You’re going to forget.”

“So I’ll toss it when I make another cup later,” Pearce said, pulling the foil off the dessert cup. “Anyways, you didn’t try to fling your body to the ground again, so you’ve got a date with a pudding.”

Grace dropped the argument. Pudding wasn’t her favorite dessert, but after mushy peas, it sounded pretty satisfying. Opening her mouth, she leaned forward into the spoon, and - possibly on purpose, possibly by accident - Pearce didn’t react to her movement properly, getting pudding all over her upper lip.

She almost went to lick her lips, but Pearce grinned and held up a finger. “Hold on - just a sec.”

“What?” Grace asked.

Half expecting him to wipe it off with the bib, Pearce instead leaned in with the spoon, making a few more marks on her face, around her mouth. “Okay, just hold still for a second, and…”

Taking out his phone, he snapped a photo and spun around to show the screen to her.

The chocolate pudding had been shaped into a very clear, if slightly sloppy, handlebar mustache, gracing a slightly confused, slightly grumpy face. Grace raised her eyebrows and barked out a surprised chuckle. It was a stupid bit of humor, but sincere and silly enough that she still enjoyed it at face value.

“Now you can wipe it off,” Pearce smirked. Grace licked her lips, opening wide for the next spoonful.

Pearce complied, serving her the pudding. One bite, two, and then- “Okay then, that’s it.”

Grace blinked. “Wait, really?”

“These cups are, like, tiny. They’re for kids, so it’s only a few spoonfuls,” Pearce pointed out. Setting down the cup, he said, “Alright, well. I’ll come check you in an hour or so, make sure you’re all good. You don’t have any errands or anything you need to do today, right?”

Grace shook her head. “No, not really…”

“Cool. See you later.” Pearce wandered off, leaving Grace to get out of her high chair herself. The clip mechanism holding the tray to the chair was pretty easy to figure out, but the stacked books wobbled and she had to be careful as she got down on her feet, surveying the mess he’d left behind.

(Of course. He’s still Pearce.) She considered leaving the mess, just to make a point, but couldn’t help herself.

“Huh,” Skip said, as they finished off their meal.

“What?” Grace asked.

Skip shrugged. “I dunno. It just seems like he might not get bored of this that quickly after all.” Standing, they grabbed the plastic trash off the counter and threw everything away in the waste bin, cleaning up after their meal.

“Why do you say that?” Grace asked. “It’s Pearce. He finds new things to get bored of like three times a week.”

“He’s got that look,” Skip shrugged. “He’s having fun messing with you, and he’s got ideas. Until he runs out of ways to keep it fun, he’s not going to give up.”

“Well… maybe you’re right,” Grace admitted, as she cleaned up the jars and general detritus from the meal. “But I’m not making it easy for him. It’ll get too tedious for him to continue before long.”

“Yeah, uh-huh,” Skip said, getting a cup of water. “You were making it real hard for him just there. Cute outfit, by the way.”

“I am! I made it a pain for him to dress me,” Grace said, popping the old pod out of the coffee maker and tossing it in the trash. Just because Pearce didn’t care about leaving it in, didn’t mean she was going to ignore it.

“Well, I’m off to bed,” Skip said. “You think you’ll be up tonight to hang out a bit before I go to work?”

“Bedtime,” Grace pointed out. “So probably not, unless Pearce gives up particularly fast.”

“Right. See you, then.” Skip left the kitchen, and Grace finished cleaning up.

That was… that. Wasn’t much else to do. Taking her coffee, she waddled out of the kitchen and went to go get some work done on her computer.