girl ― saved by captain america

[forty five] new foods

[Steve]

"We'll have to go get more groceries at some point, but I'm sure we can find something to whip up for now," I tell Willa as I stand in front of the open refrigerator. The little girl nods shyly from her seat on the pearly white counter, peering in slightly as well. Before I brought her in, one of my many trips over here was to bring a small round of groceries. I didn't grab anything specific for meals; I just knew it would probably be a good idea to have something on hand when we started out.

"Juice?" the small child asks, her usual question whenever mealtime comes around. I continue to scan my eyes over the options, not impressed with what I'm seeing.

"Well, remember how Bruce said we should start trying different foods?" I remind her. At this point in Willa's recovery, the doctor has deemed it safe for us to start expanding her diet. While we've been trying to go slow, there's a growing part of me that feels we should maybe start picking up the pace. She's still incredibly skinny; Bruce weighed her the other day and the results nearly gave me a heart attack. The trouble is, it's just been so hard on her, in so many ways. For one, her teeth and jaw aren't used to chewing regularly, so eating tougher foods makes her mouth hurt. Additionally, several of the things she's tried have been hard on her tummy, giving her agonizing stomachaches. Bruce says both of these things are normal, and that the only way to overcome them is to keep pushing through until the body normalizes the processes. Besides those physical challenges, it's also quite emotionally taxing for Willa. 'Juice' has always been safe when Bruce and I have given it to her, but all of these new foods, she isn't so sure about. And when they end up making her mouth or tummy hurt, she often ends up asking if she's being punished, which absolutely breaks my heart.

Willa's quiet at my question, causing me to glance up at her from the fridge. Her eyes have grown wide, her brow raised in subtle worry. Her bottom lip puffs out ever-so-slightly at me and I frown, disappointed to have frightened her. "I-... m-... p-please?" she asks carefully. My chest tightens in guilt.

"How about some- some eggs? I can cook us up some eggs," I try to suggest, pulling out the carton and setting it on the counter. Willa watches me with wide eyes as I close the fridge and move over in front of the stove, getting to work on the food. "Eggs are nice and soft so they shouldn't hurt your teeth," I tell her as I crack them over a pan, turning on the burner. As the heat begins to spread across the surface, I take a whisk out from a drawer and break the yolks into the whites, blending them together. The little girl beside me stays completely silent, not taking her eyes off me for even a moment.

When the eggs have formed into a nice fluffy scramble, I kill the heat, moving the pan to a back burner. Reaching up into the cabinets overhead, I take two navy blue plates from the new set Bucky gifted us and set them out on the counter, dishing us up each some of the food. "Hmm, we should probably find some other stuff; this doesn't really look like a meal," I decide, returning to the fridge. "How about some strawberries? You like those in your juice, remember?"

"S'awberries," Willa mumbles softly, which is probably the only confirmation I'm gonna get. I remove the plastic box from the fridge and grab a handful, rinsing them off in the sink before adding them to our plates. Just to make it easier for the kid, I find a knife in the silverware drawer and cut her berries into bite-sized pieces. Dropping the stems into the bin along with the eggshells, I return to the fridge, putting the eggs and strawberries back in their place. "How about some toast, too? I don't think you've tried that yet."

"Bread," she says and points plainly. Chuckling at her softly, I nod as I take two slices from the bag, popping them into the toaster.

"Kind of. Crunchy bread. We cook it in this thing," I explain, pointing at the contraption.