Jennifer's eyes nearly popped out of her head as she saw the spread of ham, sweet potatoes, green beans,soft, yeasty rolls and what smelled like peach cobbler. The 'home' only fed the kids with beans or water gravy over stale bread. She hadn't tasted ham in years. Her mouth was suddenly moist with hunger and she knew that keeping the desire from her eyes was going to be next to impossible, so she narrowed them..<br/><br/>"What's the catch?" she asked, shrinking back.<br/><br/>Ash seemed to not hear the words as he pulled out good china and gleaming silverware as casually as if it were paper plates and plastic cutlery. He piled a bit of everything on the plate.<br/><br/>As if in a dream, Jennifer sat in the leather chair at the kitchen table. Ash produced a huge linen napkin which he tied around her neck. His hands were warm as they lingered around her collarbone for a second or two too long. She swallowed hard, either from the stimulus of the food or his touch. The woman/child couldn't have told from which. Her body was as starved for touch as it was for food.<br/><br/>Taking a bite of the soft, warm yam, she thought she would die. The butter and orange flesh of the potato seemed to engulf her taste buds. Closing her eyes, she savored the flavors as if she might not ever eat again.<br/><br/>Swallowing and then dabbing her mouth with the napkin, she said, simply,<br/>"Thank you," and then the salt from her tears seasoned the next few bites of food.