She looked down at herself and I might have seen a slight nod.
“Is your brother awake?” I asked, and now she shook her head a little. I looked at my phone and saw that it was past ten in the morning, and sunlight was streaming through the sheer curtains on the windows. “Did you eat yet?” Another little shake. “If you go down to the kitchen, I’ll get dressed and see what I can make for you.”
Now she just stared, like that was a very unusual concept. “I can make breakfast for myself,” she told me.
“Ok, then I’ll make something for myself, too,” I said, and I smiled at her. “You could share mine if you want.”
She did. She ate her piece of toast and then the eggs I’d made, along with several pancakes. They had a pretty well-stocked refrigerator and the cupboards had food, too, but a lot of the stuff was expired or just looked strange. Seeing all that she consumed, I wasn’t sure if she’d had dinner the night before and looking at the mix of weird ingredients they had, I wasn’t sure how they could have made a full meal.
We both heard Silas get up with a big thump as his feet hit his bedroom floor, and then we also heard the sound of waterrunning before more thumps told me that he was on his way to join us. “Pancakes?” he asked when he came through the kitchen door.
“Good morning,” I said, and Lyra flew off her chair to hug him tightly. When he sat on a chair, she sat on his lap. “Do you eat in the morning?”
“When someone makes pancakes and scrambled eggs, I sure as hell do,” he answered, and I frowned at him. No wonder his sister was cussing at strangers. “You dressed up to cook, too,” he noted, pointing at me. Since I hadn’t had anything else, I’d had to re-don the bra and dress from the night before and it was even more uncomfortable. It also looked very strange in this kitchen, with the needlepoint on the wall that said “God Bless Us.”
“Holy shit. These are delicious,” he said as he finished a pancake. He had folded the entire thing onto his fork and eaten it whole. “Why are you making that face?” He imitated my expression, eyebrows drawn down and lips pinched.
“You should watch your language,” I suggested. “Want more?”
He did, and so did Lyra. I exhausted my batter and then put the pitcher into the sink. Someone (probably his grandma) had done a lot of cooking in this kitchen because I’d found all the tools and implements I’d needed without a problem.
“Ok,” I said, wiping my hands as I turned to them. “I need to get going.”
“Where?” Lyra asked. She hadn’t spoken much as I’d cooked but she had answered a few simple questions. Maybe she felt more comfortable with her brother here.
“I need to get back to my apartment and change,” I said, and looked down at the dress. Now it was inappropriate and also smudged with some flour and batter.
“I don’t like that,” Silas stated.
“You’ve made your feelings about my outfit very clear—”
“No, I mean that I don’t like you going to that apartment,” he said. “Even in the daytime, that’s a terrible street. Lyra and I can come with you.”
We hadn’t talked about him escorting me places as part of our agreement, but in fact, we hadn’t gone over any details because I had been close to falling asleep on the table. I didn’t want to bring it up now, either, since she didn’t need to know that her brother had thought he’d have to coerce me into being her friend. Instead I asked, “How would you get home with no car?”
“I’ll get us one, a rideshare.”
“Would you order it by using an app on your smartphone, the one you pretended not to have?”
“Huh? When did I do that?” he asked, and he did seem genuinely confused.
“Are we leaving? I have to pee first,” Lyra announced.
“Go,” he told her, but then asked, “Did you brush your teeth?” She scampered off but he followed, telling me that he was going to check on her because she usually just wet the bristles. I took another tour of the house, which still looked so pleasant in the daylight. Dusty and slightly disheveled, yes, but I loved all the built-ins and the fireplace, and I loved that someone (probablyhis grandmother again) had worked to make this feel like a home. There were pretty pictures on the walls and rugs under my feet on the wood floors.
The backyard, which I stepped into, was as well-kept as the front. Silas must have felt more comfortable with a mower than with a dusting cloth, because this was neat as a pin. There was a small, detached garage and I walked over to look through the glass window in the door. No car, but I did spot a few bikes.
“Ready?” he called to me. Both he and Lyra were out in the driveway, and while he looked clean and refreshed, she was…not. She had put on a different shirt, since the previous one had suffered from a syrup spill, but it was wrinkled and her hair was still as tangled as before, like she hadn’t touched it with a brush in more than a minute. But at least she’d had a good breakfast.
I argued with him a little, saying that they didn’t need to give up more of their Sunday to accompany me. “Is my street the best place for everyone?” I asked, and I raised my eyebrows at his sister.
“I’ll keep an eye on you two and we owe you for the pancakes. We pay our debts, right, Ly?”
She glanced at me and shrugged, but once we were all in the car, she did talk more. Only to him, but that was ok because I was also listening. She told him about the book she had brought with her, a mystery that (to my eavesdropping ears) sounded much too mature for a seven-year-old. But she was so excited when she talked about the plot and she also told him about a story that she was writing herself, another mystery.
Silas listened. He obviously did, because he asked her questions back that were specific and detailed, and his comments weren’t just things like “sounds good” or “sure, sure,” phrases that I had often heard when I’d tried to discuss something important to me on car rides with my ex. They talked for the twenty-two minutes over to my apartment (not sixteen as my phone tried to deceive me).
“Why are you smiling?” he asked as we got closer. “Looking forward to climbing the three flights of stairs?”
