“I see. Is there a way to turn him off?”
Frankie’s brows drew down over her eyes, making her little forehead crease. “He’s a bird, Uncle Alex.”
“Yeah, I know.” I reached out and pulled my niece in for a hug. “What time is it, anyway?”
Frankie shrugged her shoulders as she twirled away. “Time to go to school. Mom says we’re leaving in five minutes.”
“Okay, thanks.”
She reached for the bird, who climbed onto her hand and then waddled up her arm to rest on her shoulder. “Jordan made waffles. Mom says you better come and get some before Dolly feeds them to her stuffed animals.”
“Be there in a sec.” I waited for her to disappear through the doorway before reaching for my phone.
The contractor had confirmed our meeting for this morning. I didn’t have any time to waste if I wanted to get the penguin habitat constructed in time for the wedding. For a moment my thoughts wandered to my interaction with Zina last night. She was like the pit bulls she rescued—tough and protective of the ones she loved.
The fact she was suspicious of my motives rankled me a bit. It shouldn’t matter what she thought. I was going to be stressed enough as it was without any outside interference. But I’d made it this far in life by winning people over. I’d just have to work a little harder to gain her trust.
“I heard there were waffles.” I entered the kitchen to find the aftermath of an explosion of flour all over the kitchen counters. My jacket hung on the back of the chair I’d used last night.Somehow it had also suffered the wrath of whoever had taken out their aggression by making breakfast.
“We had a little accident with the baking mix,” Char said.
“Really? Who’s responsible? I think someone deserves to be tickle tortured for that.” I held my hands up and wiggled my fingers.
“It was Jordan.” Dolly giggled and pointed her wand at her older sister.
“Don’t even think about it, Uncle Alex.” Jordan jerked the spatula out of the bowl, sending a glob of raw waffle batter right at my shirt.
The batter splattered against my chest and then plopped onto the floor. I glanced from my shirt to Jordan, whose eyes had gone wide.
“Sorry about that.” She thrust the spatula back in the bowl.
“No problem, kiddo. What’s a little salmonella poisoning among family members,” I joked.
“Coffee’s on. Mugs are in the cabinet in front of you. It’s the only way I survive.” Char tossed me a towel and offered a sympathetic smile.
I grinned back. Then Dolly pushed past me, her plate tipping just enough to spill syrup down the front of my pants. I jumped backward, knocking over the pitcher of orange juice. It raced across the counter, dousing my notebook in liquid.
“For fuck’s sake.”
“For fuck’s sake. For fuck’s sake,” the bird mocked me.
“Oooh, Uncle Alex is going to get a consequence.” Izzy covered her mouth with her hand.
Silence descended. The only noise came from Jordan’s phone in the form of a video she’d been watching while she monitored the waffle iron.
“Alex, can I talk to you?” Char turned away from where she’d been packing lunch boxes. “In the living room?”
I glanced from Jordan to Frankie. They both looked away. Izzy shook her head and Dolly clucked her tongue. I was a grown man. Why did I suddenly feel like I was about to get grounded by my sister?
Char moved down the hall and stopped inside the living room. “What’s going on?”
I slid my hand over my shirt. “I’m covered in breakfast. Is it always like this around here?”
“Yeah, it pretty much is.” Her shoulders slumped. “Which is why I can’t have Gramps moving in, too.”
I wanted to offer some sort of comfort but wasn’t sure how. “We’ll figure something out. Once I get paid from this gig, I’ll have plenty to pitch in and find Gramps a new place to go.”
“How did we end up here?” Char lifted her head. Her lower lids brimmed with tears.
