"I forgot to start dinner," she suddenly realized. Where had the day gone? "I will go get started." She hurried off.
When she arrived in the kitchen, she discovered Robert was already there, chopping vegetables. "What are you doing?"
Robert paused. "I am making dinner," he said. "What does it look like?" He muttered something under his breath she couldn't hear.
Mollie shook her head. "I came to make dinner."
"You do not even know what I am making," Robert said. "You can set the table if you want. And stay out of the way. I do not need your help."
Her newfound confidence pulsing through her..or maybe it was the testosterone, Mollie looked at him. "I did not do anything to YOU," she emphasized. "You do not get to treat me like this."
Robert had been in an irritable mood all day. He turned, pausing his food preparation, preparing to respond. Mollie stared him directly in the eye, again failing to notice he was normally taller than her. Robert studied her face for a moment, before dropping his gaze to the floor, suddenly uncomfortable.
"If you want to do everything yourself. I will not stop you," Mollie said.
"Oui," Robert whispered. He stood there nervously, not wanting to get in trouble again, before the sound of the oven timer beeping snapped him out of it, and he hurried back to his work.
Mollie watched as Robert leaned down to check on the meat in the oven, allowing her a few under the skirt. She failed to notice that his thighs seemed just a little bit plumper, and the skin around them seemed slightly darker than the rest of his legs.
Mollie wandered out, forgetting about helping Robert. He finished chopping the vegetables, seasoned them, and put them in the oven as well. He scrambled to set the table alone, hurrying expertly on his heels, before heading back to the kitchen to clean up the cutting board and load the dishwasher.
Everything was ready for when the family filed into the dining room to eat.
