He turned around, looking somehow more somber today.
His pale skin sank into his bones as he said, “Sorry to disappoint, Ness. It’s just me.”
Woodrow took another sip of the juice he’d poured. The straw settled between his lips, drawing my eyes to them.
“Do you want some breakfast?” he asked, putting the beaker that was so obviously Nessie’s aside.
“No. Maybe just a snack.” She let go of my hand to examine the food cupboards. I didn’t follow even as she asked, “What shall we have, Jolie?”
My stomach rumbled as she pulled out a disappointing choice of cookies.
“That’s not breakfast, Ness.” Woodrow encouraged a healthy, more appealing meal, and I silently agreed, hoping she’d follow his lead, but she didn’t.
“Momma isn’t up.”
“I’ll make you breakfast.”
“No. Cookies are fine. We’ll share.” She looked over to me, her signature smile on her face. Closing the cupboard door, she brought the packet along.
“Do you want something other than cookies?” Woodrow’s eyes were on me as he worded his question.
But I wouldn’t request an alternative. I was just grateful I got to eat.
“I’m good. Thank you.”
Nessie weaved her fingers through mine. She was ready to leave—ready for a whole day of fun, as she had told me.
“Thank you, for yesterday. Last night.” Woodrow smiled, somehow more enchanting than his little sister.
“You’re welcome.” I was halfway out through the hallway when I stopped. Calling back, I asked, “Which did you prefer?”
He paused, enjoying my attention on him. “Chocolate. Always chocolate.” His smile grew.
And mine grew, too. “Are you coming out?” I remembered Wynter’s words about her son needing a friend, but that wasn’t why I asked.
“He’s not as much fun as Woody.” Nessie shook her head and laughed, pulling my arm to guide me towards the door.
“Maybe today we could try a new game?” I suggested, a shrug lifting my shoulders.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe we should leave you inside, and Jolie and I can have a little fun of our own.”
My head snapped to Woodrow’s words. His pretty eyes winked at me, letting me know he was no more than joking.
“No way!” Nessie screeched, not understanding her brother’s cheekiness.
The ceiling rattled, stomping feet moved around a bedroom above. Noises I hadn’t previously heard, cursing and muffled agitation yelled from one corner to another, echoed from the same room.
“I tell you what, we’ll play hide and go seek. You guys run and hide. I’ll make Momma a coffee; it sounds like she’s gonna need it, and I’ll be right out. I’ll come find you, and whoever I find first, gets the other one’s chore tonight.”
“I don’t have chores. I’m too little. Too special, Momma says,” Nessie answered her brother, dread on her face over the idea of chores.
“Well, if I find you first, you’ll get mine, and I get lots of chores.”
God, I hope he wouldn’t find me first. . . because, I too, had lots of chores.
Nessie rushed out, slipping from my grip. She took a minute, close to an actual minute, struggling to unlock the door at her small height. I used this time to ask Woodrow if he was okay. He told me he was, but his smile said otherwise—I knew an exaggerated expression these days. And his eyes and the look they gave me, told me he was a bare-faced liar.
