Chapter 903 Go Back to the Room and Give Me a Massage
Evelyn was in the kitchen making baby food when she saw Phoebe walk in, looking down. "Hey, what's up?" she asked, surprised.
Phoebe went to the fridge to grab some ice water, but before she could take a sip, Evelyn snatched it back and put it away. "What are you thinking, drinking something cold in this weather? Are you trying to get sick?"
Phoebe sighed and sat down, watching Evelyn cook with a gloomy expression.
Evelyn glanced at her. "Theodore's back. Why aren't you with him instead of moping around here?"
"He's taking a shower," Phoebe replied weakly. "Besides, he probably doesn't want to see me right now."
Evelyn raised an eyebrow. "You two were all lovey-dovey just a moment ago. What happened? Did you fight already?"
Phoebe propped her chin on her hand and looked at Evelyn's gloating face. She muttered, "You act like he's your son."
Evelyn mixed the salad into the mashed potatoes, added some blanched carrot cubes, and divided the mixture into four small plates. "Don't say such heartless things. Take the mashed potatoes out for the kids. I'll make some pasta for them next," she instructed.
In her opinion, a little argument between young couples could strengthen their relationship. If there were no disagreements at all, that would be a bigger problem.
Phoebe reluctantly got up, placed the plates on a tray, and carried them out to the kids. They didn't need any prompting; as soon as they saw their favorite mashed potatoes, they eagerly sat in their high chairs, ready to eat.
Phoebe placed a plate in front of each child. Hubert immediately dug in, his legs shaking with delight. "Yummy, yummy."
Boris quickly followed suit, savoring each bite with his eyes closed. Only Noomi held out a spoonful of mashed potatoes to Phoebe. "Mommy, you eat too."
Phoebe leaned in and pretended to take a bite. She smiled and said, "It's delicious. Noomi, you eat it."
Noomi happily took a big bite. Seeing this, Hubert and Boris also tried to feed Phoebe, but she patted their heads and told them to eat by themselves.
Theodore came downstairs and saw this scene. He paused, feeling a pang of jealousy, but he had to accept the reality.
Phoebe turned around and met his gaze. "Dinner will be ready soon. Why don't you watch some TV in the meantime?" she suggested.
Theodore walked into the dining room. Hubert, Boris, and Noomi all offered him spoonfuls of mashed potatoes. "Mr. Reynolds, the mashed potatoes are super yummy."
Theodore's heart melted at their gesture. He smiled. "You guys eat. I'll just watch."
"Okay," they chorused and went back to eating. Noomi's eyes sparkled. "Mr. Reynolds, are you sad?"
Boris chimed in, "Mr. Reynolds must be tired. Traveling is exhausting."
"Yeah, traveling is tiring. Mommy always sleeps a lot when she comes back from a trip," Hubert added, his voice muffled by the spoon in his mouth.
Theodore replied softly, "I'm fine, not too tired."
Phoebe remembered Theodore's earlier comment about wanting her to have his child and realized his mood was low because she had refused.
She walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Want me to give you a massage? It'll help you relax," she offered with a smile.
Theodore glanced at her and said coolly, "Save it. You can give me all the massages you want when we're back in our room. I promise I won't stop you."
Phoebe's fingers trembled, and she awkwardly withdrew her hand, her cheeks flushing red. "I'll go see if Mom needs help. You stay with the kids," she said before quickly leaving.
Theodore watched her retreating figure, a small smile playing on his lips. When he turned back, he saw four pairs of eyes staring at him. He cleared his throat. "Keep eating."
Hubert, Boris, Noomi, and Ethan quickly resumed their meal.
After dinner, Theodore took the kids for a walk. The weather was getting colder, so Hubert, Boris, and Noomi wore vests and light jackets, looking stylish and adorable.
The lakeside was bustling with people. The kids eagerly ran to the playground, which was their paradise. No child could resist its allure.
Phoebe and Theodore stood nearby, watching the kids line up for the slide. A mother approached Phoebe and struck up a conversation. "Your kids are so cute. Are they almost two?"
"Yes, they'll be two in a couple of months," Phoebe replied, not wanting to seem aloof. "How old is your child?"
"Older than yours, already two. He'll start preschool next fall," the young mother said with a smile. "Have you found a preschool yet?"
Phoebe nodded. "There's one in our neighborhood. I plan to enroll them there. It's convenient for drop-offs and pick-ups."
"The one in Lakeview Estates? I heard it's really expensive, like $20,000 a month. With three kids, that's $60,000. That's a lot," the young mother said, wide-eyed.
Phoebe smiled. "Yes, raising kids is expensive."
They chatted for a while, and Phoebe learned that the woman was a stay-at-home mom. Her husband was a high-ranking executive at a big company, earning millions annually. They had just bought a house nearby.
The woman glanced at Theodore and lowered her voice. "Your husband is great, taking the kids for a walk with you. My husband works late every day. If he comes home sober and doesn't need me to take care of him, I'm lucky."
Phoebe smiled. "Men are busy with their careers. You have to be understanding."
The woman sighed. "I try, but it's frustrating. Your husband seems successful, too. How does he have time to help with the kids? Compared to him, my husband doesn't care about me at all."
Phoebe quickly said, "Don't think that way."
The woman seemed to have opened a floodgate, complaining about her husband and his parents.
Theodore's face grew darker. He suddenly put his arm around Phoebe's waist and said to the woman, "Sorry, we need to continue our walk. Excuse us."
Phoebe was pulled away, only managing to give the woman an awkward but polite smile.
As they walked to another part of the park, Theodore frowned. "Why did you waste so much time talking to her? She's just bored and complaining."
Phoebe covered her mouth, laughing softly. "She's a stay-at-home mom. She's almost disconnected from society. What else can she talk about besides her husband and kids?"
"Perspective," Theodore snorted. "Your perspective is much broader than hers."
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