Because fuck, I’ve never been more terrified in my life.
57
Wren
3 years later
The phone buzzes, nearly vibrating off the kitchen counter. I lunge for it, catching it before it takes a nosedive onto the linoleum. Three texts from Em light up the screen:
Em: GUESS WHO JUST GOT HIRED AT SPOTIFY???? *party popper emoji followed by a musical notes emoji
Em: This bitch, that’s who! *smiling face wearing a pair of dark sunglasses emoji
Em: I’m so pumped for next weekend. Give my favorite nephew a big smooch from his cool aunt! *kiss mark emoji
I can’t help but grin. Leave it to Em to land a job at fucking Spotify right out of university. Kid’s always been too smart for her own good.
I type out a reply:
Me: Congrats, smartass. Knew you’d crush it. Alex says hi, but he’s currently giving his peas a stern talking-to.
I snap a quick pic of Alex in his high chair, little face scrunched up as he lectures a pile of mushy peas and hit send.
Me: You still good to fly in Friday? I’ve got the afternoon off, can pick you up at the airport.
The reply comes almost instantly:
Em: Wouldn’t miss it for the world! Can’t wait to see my two favorite humans and all 12 of Pinecrest’s exciting attractions *face with tears of joy emoji
I let out a fake groan, but I’m grinning too much to pull it off.
Me: Hey, we’ve got a stoplight now. Town’s really moving up in the world.
Em: Ooh, fancy! Save some of that big city excitement for me!
I’m about to reply when Alex lets out a war cry and launches a fistful of peas across the kitchen. Shit. At least the kid’s got an arm on him.
Me: Gotta go. Your nephew’s staging a food rebellion. See you Friday, kid.
I toss the phone aside and grab a rag.
“Alright, little man, time for Operation Cleanup. You ready to be Momma’s super helper?”
Alex’s eyes light up. “Soopa hewpa!”
I hand him a small cloth. “Let’s see who can clean up the most peas. Ready, set, go!”
We’re halfway through our cleaning game when Lenny bursts through the door, sweat glistening on his forehead.
“Hey, squad!” he calls out, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge.
“Uncwe Lenny!” Alex squeals, abandoning his cloth to run at his uncle.
Lenny scoops him up, grimacing playfully. “Ugh, you’re all sticky, buddy. What’ve you been up to?”
“Pea fight,” I explain, wiping the last smear off the fridge. “You’re just in time for the aftermath.”
Lenny sets Alex down and grabs another rag. “Can’t let you have all the fun, can I?”
