So much, he refused to learn where Lena kept it stored. Never trusted himself not to throw it away one day.
“I like it.” I rub my palms together. “Now, before we jump into action, do you actually know where the galaxy lamp is?”
She rolls her eyes at me. It’s a humbling experience when a seven-year-old knows she’s smarter than you. “Of course, Uncle Jovi.”
“Okay.” I start to straighten myself up. “Then let’s do this.” I give her shoulder a little tap and she turns back toward the steps.
“Count to ten before you follow me,” she says, clearly having overheard it somewhere.
I hold in a laugh on the verge of escaping, pressing my lips together for the best serious face I can muster under the circumstances and give her a thumbs up.
She winks. It’s clumsy and looks more like both eyes blinking at me, but I don’t miss the gesture and return it.
Then she takes off down the stairs, a little hop to her steps she didn’t have earlier tonight.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
LIZ
“Sorry, bud, this carton of vanilla rice milk is all I've got. Take it or leave it.” I wave the box back and forth as if that might somehow make it more enticing.
“But it’s not cold,” he whines. “I like it cold.”
“I know it’s not cold.” I found it stashed in the pantry behind the cereal boxes. A back up milk, I’m guessing. Last I checked, Lena wasn’t off dairy. “Maybe we can put some ice cubes in it?”
His little brow crinkles and his lip curls. “That’s gwoss.”
“So, maybe water?” I offer, placing the rice milk on the counter and moving for the sink.
“I guess,” he huffs, stomping his feet as he follows me. I can’t even be mad at him. Room temperature rice milk sounds a little funky to me too. And adding ice cubes, i.e. water, to an already watered down milk substitute does have an air of making a bad situation worse to it.
“Aunt Liz,” Remmi interrupts our milk predicament, marching into the kitchen like a girl on a mission. God, I hope she’s not about to ask me for milk as well.
“Yeah, babe?” I grab a cup from the cabinet and start to fill it for Gavin.
“Do you know where the galaxy light is?” She slows to a stop beside the counter, hooking her elbow on the edge and leaning into it. “We like to have it on to go to sleep.”
“The galaxy light?” Not only do I not know where it is, I have no fucking clue what it is. “What does it look like?”
“Kind of like a big ball.” Her shoulders bounce slightly, like she’s not really sure how else to explain it.
“A big ball,” I repeat her description.
“Yeah.” She rolls her head from shoulder to shoulder. “And it’s a lamp.”
“Right.” Not helpful.
“It has staws on it,” Gavin chimes in when I hand him his water. “And the moon. And the sun.” His eyes light up, sipping his drink. Apparently, the galaxy lamp is magic because he’s already forgotten how disappointing water is when you’re craving milk.
“Now we’re getting somewhere.” I tap my finger on the counter, thinking. “How big is it?”
Remmi and Gavin both make circles with their arms. Two very different sized circles. “Cool. Thanks.”
I sigh, closing my eyes for a second in a pathetic attempt to think like Lena. If it’s a bedtime thing, it has to be upstairs somewhere, right? Right.
“Let’s check the hall closet next to the upstairs bathroom,” I suggest.
“Good idea!” Remmi dashes from the kitchen before I can push away from the counter. She must really want that lamp.
