“All right. It’s cold outside, but I think you’ll like it.”
“He doesn’t,” Cheyenne said. “He cried when I took him to the backyard earlier.”
“Did he go?”
She nodded.
“Then he’ll get used to it. I’ll grab a ball and let him get some exercise.”
Chris spent the next fifteen minutes outside with the pup until Charlie trotted close to him and plopped on the concrete deck.
“Tired, huh?”
Charlie panted.
“Let’s go inside and hang out with the girls.” Chris let him inside the back door.
Erykah stood in the kitchen and glanced over at him. “Oh, you’re home.”
“Yeah. Took the dog outside for a bit.”
“I made dinner.” She bit her lip.
“You know you don’t have to do that, right?”
A shadow fell over her face, and she turned away.
Crap.He reached for her arm. “Erykah.”
“Hmm?”
He wove his fingers through hers and squeezed. “I’m so grateful for the meal, but I meant, you have a lot going on. I’m more than happy to handle cooking dinner.” She’d been a machine since they arrived yesterday. If she stayed so busy, when would she have time to grieve?
She turned and faced him, arms folded across her chest. “You’ve done so much, Chris. So. Much.” Her voice shook. “The least I can do is make dinner for you. Theveryleast.”
He wanted to pull her to him, to give her another hug, but the folded arms were a neon sign he wouldn’t ignore. Chris slid his hands into his pockets and nodded. “Okay, thank you for dinner.”
A choked laugh fell from her lips. “You’re welcome. It’s ready. Let me get Cheyenne to wash her hands.”
“I’ll wash up in here.”
Thank goodness he’d managed to remove his foot from his mouth. After washing his hands, he dished up a bowl for him and Erykah. Then he found one of Cheyenne’s bright orange kid-sized plates and scooped up some roast for the girl. He had no idea if she’d eat it. Supposedly kids were picky eaters. He could only pray she wouldn’t give Erykah any grief. She’d doled out enough theatrics during that tantrum yesterday. Apparently basements were the stuff of nightmares. He’d blame Macaulay Culkin for that one, though Cheyenne may have never watched any of the movies in theHome Alonefranchise.
He didn’t understand her concern considering he had a finished basement. Maybe Cheye just nitpicked because of the unfamiliar surroundings. She had to get her heartache out somehow, and that had showcased in a fit that lasted for-ev-er while she pounded the carpet and cried about life being unfair.
Chris placed the dinnerware at the table, then came with the rolls Erykah had heated up. He’d bought the rolls at the farmers’ market and frozen them before they left for Kentucky. Thankfully they warmed up well in the oven. He breathed in the yeasty smell now permeating the house.
“I don’t want to eat this.” Cheyenne pouted as she came to stand by the table. “It looks like poop.”
“Cheye, don’t saypoopat dinner.” Exhaustion filled Erykah’s voice.
“WhencanI say it? At breakfast? When I need to use the bathroom?” She glared at her aunt.
“Are you hungry?”
“Not for poop.” Cheyenne gave Erykah a pointed look.
Chris would have laughed if not for the frustrated look on Erykah’s face. “Hey, Cheyenne.”
