She nodded. "So not Wednesday. Um... I can't Thursday. Friday?"
"Friday," he nodded. "I can do Friday. Come over for dinner around six?"
"Okay. Can I have your address?"
"I'll text it to you."
"Sounds good. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Tomorrow."

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Marinette had become attuned to the sound of the garage door opening. She put a hand to her ear, pausing the superhero meeting she and Emma were having. "Shh," she said, "Do you hear that?"
Curious, Emma put her own hand to her ear.
"It sounded like... the garage door."
She was up like a shot. "Daddy's home! Daddy's home!"
Giggling, Marinette stood and followed. She was half way down the stairs when she heard the door open and the greeting between father and daughter occur.
She met them in the kitchen. "I thought you said you had a busy day today," she commented with a playful smile. "And it's just after five."
He shrugged. "The new assistant is working out."
She smiled, going in to collect her standard hug. "I'm so glad."
It was brief and sideways as normal, seeing as Adrien was holding Emma with one arm.
"Well, since you're home," she said. "You can help us make dinner."
"And that is?"
"Chicken parmesan,"
"Yum."
So, after Adrien shed his outer jacket and rolled up his sleeves, Marinette handed the recipe for the tomato sauce to Emma. Adrien would read most of it, pointing out certain words for Emma to read. Then, all together, they would follow the direction.
By the end, Marinette wondered who was the bigger mess: Adrien or Emma. "You do realize that tomatoes stain shirts, right?" she teased with a grin.
Adrien smirked as he brushed the stains on his shirt with the back of his hand. "Totally."
Then they got to making the pasta. Emma made a well in the flour pile with Marinette's guidance, and Adrien cracked one egg after another into the well. They both watched with rapt fascination as Marinette mixed the eggs, slowly pulling in the flour until a dough formed.
"Your turn to knead it, Emma."
Emma got to work pounding and rolling the pasta. Marinette watched with a smile, only for it to grow when Adrien leaned over to whisper in her ear. "It's like she's done this before."
"Well, it's not the first time we made pasta," she whispered back. "She swears it's the best pasta in the whole world."
"I don't doubt it."