Chapter 8
After polishing off two bowls of rich, creamy radish soup, Avery put down her spoon and said earnestly, "Mom, Dad, I know some top-notch doctors. Once you decide on a time, let me know, and I'll arrange for a car to pick them up. I'll also have my friend, who's a doctor, take a look at them. And don't worry about the costs. The hospital allows us to defer payments over five or ten years."
Wesley and Claire exchanged glances, both surprised and overjoyed. "Thank you so much, Avery. You're truly a blessing to our family," Wesley said, his voice full of gratitude.
Avery beamed, her heart warming at the sight of her parents' happiness. She returned to her meal, savoring the deep satisfaction of being able to help them. Overjoyed by Avery's obvious enjoyment, Claire kept piling more food onto her plate. "Here, have some more," she urged, her eyes twinkling with motherly pride.
Not wanting to be outdone, Wesley grabbed the serving spoon and placed an empty plate in front of Avery. "Try these, too! I made the chicken pot pies, shrimp, and macaroni and cheese," he said enthusiastically.
Avery happily ate everything that was offered, feeling like a contented cat as she relished each bite. The dishes were exceptionally fresh, and the fish she tried had such a rich flavor it reminded her of farm-to-table cooking.
Not to be outshined in the kitchen, Claire chimed in, "Avery, I made the baked fish, seafood chowder, casserole, and salad. So, tell me, who's the better cook—your dad or me?"
While most people might offer a polite response, Avery, being straightforward as always, thought for a moment before replying, "I'd give Dad's cooking a perfect score."
Wesley chuckled and shot Claire a playful wink. Claire, momentarily deflated, pouted a little as if her cooking skills had been found lacking.
But then Avery grinned and added, "And Mom's cooking? That gets an extra twenty bonus points."