“I’ll start your coffee.”
“Thank you, Junebug!” I yell, grateful. My morning dose has worn off by now, and my body could use a refill.
When I go upstairs, wash my hands, and head to the kitchen, I find Junie talking on video chat with her dad. We throw a few regular insults at each other, making Junie giggle, and I go to make breakfast: eggs, sausages, and ready-made pancakes.
By the time I place a plate in front of her, she’s half finished with her glass of strawberry milk saying goodbye to Jethro.
Junie is eyeing me over the food like she’s cracked some kind of code. She’s got that look which only comes out when she knows she’s about to make me squirm. She’s always been a sharp kid, and I know better than to underestimate her, but I also know there’s nothing she could say right now that would throw me off my game.
“So,” she says, dragging out the word in a way that tells me trouble is coming. “Nora, huh.”
I nearly choke on my coffee. “What about her?”
Junie leans forward, elbows on the table, grinning like she just got a solution to a world problem. “I saw you two talking on her porch last night,” she adds, wiggling her eyebrows.
“I thought you were sleeping,” I reply with narrowed eyes. What else did she see?
“Relax,” she says, smirking. “I just needed a glass of milk, which you didn’t have, by the way.”
“I had milk.” The guilt makes my eyes tickle.
“You didn’t have strawberry milk.”
“That’s because your favorite neighbor,” I jerk my head toward Nora’s house, “took the last carton of strawberry milk. And trust me, I tried to fight for it.”
Junie giggles, looking over my shoulder like she can see Nora through the walls. “Then how did this,” she raises the glass in her hand, “end up in the fridge? Did you steal it from her?” Her eyes sparkle with curiosity.
“No. Because stealing is wrong.” I level her with a stare.
The excitement in her eyes dies down a little. “So you just asked for it? And she gave it to you?”
“When do you think I had the time for that?”
“P-p-please, Uncle. I saw you two being all cozy last night,” she makes kissing lips, “on her porch. So I decided to go back to sleep. To give you some privacy, ya know. It’s notevery day the grumpy uncle Jerry is seen talking to a woman other than to scare her.”
I smack my mug on the table, pretending to be mad, but she only laughs at my attempt in anger—she knows I can never be angry with her.
“And where did you hear about that, huh?”
She only snorts, rolling her eyes. Right. Uncle Jericho is going to have a talk with her dad.
“How did you get the milk? For real though?” She takes a big sip of said milk, staring at me over the brim of her glass.
“Nora brought it over yesterday.”
“Ni-i-ice,” she singsongs, showing me a thumbs up.
“Anyway,” I start in a clipped tone because I can’t discuss my nonexistent relationship with Nora with my twelve-year-old niece, “It’s grown-up stuff, and I appreciate you giving us privacy.”
She shrugs one shoulder with the sweetest smile on her face. “You like her, don’t you? It’s totally obvious.”
“You’re seeing things. Nora can’t stand me, and I’m perfectly fine with that. And besides, I don’t think I can stand her either.” The lie seems bitter on my lips.
Junie raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Right. That’s why you looked like you were going to melt into a puddle when she smiled at you. Or how you were going to run to her when she fell flat on her ass.”
“Junie, language.” I nearly choke on my coffee again—I don’t think I’ve ever heard her swear. Maybe Jethro spends too much time away with work; I have to talk to him about that.
“Oops, sorry, didn’t mean it like that,” she says, not looking even a little bit sorry.
