ello, jello

Come smell this, chiquita. My dad would say. It was usually while we were making apple pies. Taste that? This is what allspice tastes like. Be careful with the nutmeg. Don’t be afraid of the cinnamon. I’d nibble from his open palm.

Come here, baby. I say to her. I blow lightly on the bit of fish on my fork. It’s hot. She’s sitting on a stool in the kitchen on New Year’s Eve. Try it. I cradle her cheek with a hand and she’s waiting for me with an open mouth. I rest the tip of the fork on her bottom lip.