“I told him he should take a break until after Lexi goes to bed,” Blake says.
“That’s a good idea,” I say.
Corey looks dejected as he stares at me. “I’ve got too much to do.”
I turn my attention to Lexi. She’s dressed the same, but her motions are less enthusiastic, and there’s a definite droop to her lips. She doesn’t even ask me where my crown and wand are. It must be hard for a five-year-old to understand why her dad is too busy to play with her.
“Can I help?” I ask.
Corey taps his pen on the mark sheet. “Do you know enough about the secondary school art curriculum to mark and give feedback on this lot?”
I shake my head.
“School policy is that I have to give every piece of work two stars and a wish.”
“Are you sure you work in a secondary school?” Blake asks.
“Yes.” Corey sighs.
“I can’t do the marking for you, but I can write if you dictate,” I offer. “It’ll give your hand a break if nothing else.”
“He’s got neater handwriting than you,” Blake says.
Corey purses his lips, which I take as a sign that he’s actually contemplating taking me up on my offer.
“I can make my handwriting look like yours.”
“You can?”
“Yup.”
“All right.”
I sit, and Corey gives me the stack of mark sheets. He tells me who it's for, what grade he's giving them from one to nine, and then dictates the two stars and a wish—two things the student has done well and one thing they need to do to improve. We get through six pieces of artwork while Blake and Lexi play before the food arrives, and we have to move everything.
“We’ll finish up after Lexi is in bed,” I promise Corey. “Take some time out.”
“Thanks, both of you.”
“It’s what brothers are for,” Blake says as he puts bowls on the table. “Now, let’s eat and celebrate Archie’s new job.”
* * *
Blake, Corey, and I head back to the lounge after saying our goodnights to Lexi. We all have to give her a kiss and hug before she’ll entertain the idea of sleep. Not that we mind; we all dote on her. Corey looks at his marking.
“Hold up,” Blake says. “Archie was going to tell us about his Dom.” He coughs. “I mean, his new boss.”
I narrow my eyes. “He’s not a Dom.”
“Of course he’s not.”
“What have I missed?” Corey asks.
"Archie got the job on the strength of his coffee-making skills," Blake says. "Oh, and calling his boss 'sir'." He waggles his eyebrows. "Tell us all about him. What does he look like?"
I sit on the sofa and grab the remote control. Blake swipes it out of my hand before I can turn the TV on and holds it like he’s won some kind of prize.
“You know what he looks like,” I say.
