Speak of the devil.
“I can’t. I have the horse chiropractor coming at two for Misty. I think she’s getting tight in the back end.” Sophia plops into the chair opposite of me at the table and idly picks up a piece of bacon.
“Like owner, like pet,” I grumble.
“Now, son,” Dad chuckles. “You can take her. Look at this beautiful breakfast she made.” His hands sweeps over the dishes. “You know she can’t drive anymore with her glaucoma, but I bet she’ll buy you an ice cream.”
“That sounds like a lovely idea,” Grandma appears from the hall carrying a squirmy Jack. “This little booger needed a new diaper already! I think that milk went right through him.” She starts to set my little brother into the playpen, but Dad stands up with his arms out.
Gross. Ihatediaper talk.
“Heya, buddy.” Dad’s smile splits his cheeks as he props Jack on his knee. He pushes a few pieces of scrambled eggs within reach of the chubby fingers.
Jack lets out a contented squeal and does his best to fist a handful into his mouth.
“Where’s Grandpa?” Sophia glances up as Grandma passes behind her to sit heavily in the next chair.
“He went with Ford to the north pasture. A tree fell on a fence I guess.” Grandma rolls her eyes behind her thick glasses.
That makes me glower at Dad. “Isn’t he too old for that?”
Grandpa can barely walk, much less ride.
Neither of my grandparents can drive anymore, it’s why Dad brought them here to live with us.
But not to work.
“I can’t argue with him, he’s a stubborn cuss.” Dad shrugs.
Well. We all get that honest, I suppose.
“Besides,” he continues. “There’s a pretty good chance he’s just sitting in the saddle telling Ford what to do.”
Sophia snorts. “I bet Fordlovesthat.”
“Loves what?” Lori asks, appearing in the kitchen with teeny tiny Ben nestled into the crook of her arm.
Grandma gets up and tuts, reaching for the infant.
Lori passes off the bundled baby and finishes pouring a cup of coffee before sliding next to Dad at the table.
“Oh, Clyde is supervising Ford out on the fenceline.” Grandma rocks my youngest brother against her neck.
“Ah,” Lori laughs. “Yea, I bet Ford is really loving that.” She holds up a piece of toast. “Thank you again for breakfast, Hazel.”
“Of course, dear! I love having a full house to cook for again.” Her smile is warm and genuine as she pats the baby’s back in a slow rhythm.
“Sawyer.” Dad turns back to me.
Shit.
“Tell me why you can’t take your grandma to the pharmacy?” His dark eyes narrow, making the crow’s feet at the corners deepen.
“Honey, you don’t have to worry about that. I can get them some other time.” Grandma waves her hand at me.
I haven’t told him, or anyone, about Hilltop.
And I definitely don’t want to in front of everybody.
