Ava’s brows shoot up. “And that’s enough to ward off the grasping claws of the patriarchy?”
“Actually, I think it’s because it’s the best way to stop the filling spurting out all over the place the way yours has,” I say with a pointed look at her plate, which is covered in cream and pastry crumbs. “If Sunny was abandoning her principles for something, she was going to make damn sure she got to enjoy every last morsel.”
“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Blake agrees, picking his fork back up and finishing off the last piece of his pastry.
14
“Jump!”Izzy cries on cue, throwing her arms in the air and providing a demonstration of the verb. She doesn’t quite manage to get both feet off the ground at the same time but it’s close enough.
I grin at her, nodding in encouragement as I cue her up again. We’re practicing our performance of Van Halen’s “Jump,” which we’ll be wowing her kindergarten class with on Monday. I’m going to be the main attraction for J week, of course, but rather than having me just stand there while she tells the class how awesome I am I thought we could do something a little special.
I strum off once we’ve run through the chorus, setting my guitar aside. “Alright, I think we’ve got the hang of it.”
“No,”Izzy pouts. “All the song.”
“It’s almost bedtime,” I point out. “We can practice again in the morning.”
“Practice now,” she insists.
“Isobel,”I say in a warning tone.
She scrunches her nose up in obvious frustration but doesn’t argue further.
I let out a dramatic sigh and give a one-shouldered shrug. “Alright, we can practice a little longer if you really want. But you won’t have time for a bath.”
The scowl disappears instantly, replaced with a wide-eyed, wary expression. “No bath?”
I make a show of checking the clock in the kitchen. “We’re really cutting it fine, here. We’ll be lucky to squeeze in a story as it is…”
Her expression now adorably aghast, she turns and rushes out of the living room—presumably to the bathroom—all thoughts of further practice forgotten.
I letout a snort of laughter and follow her to the bathroom, but my smile drops when I hear water rushing from outside the door. And when I step into the bathroom and see her playing with the faucet I can feel my expression forming into a dark frown.
“Isobel!”The word comes out in a harsh growl, fear making my tone harder than I’d ever usually use with my sister.
She snaps her head up, guilt clear in her expression, her wide eyes full of trepidation.
I hastily cross to the bath and shut the faucet off. “You know you’re not allowed to run your own bath,” I chide. My tone is much gentler but I haven’t been able to wipe awaythe disapproving frown just yet. “It’s dangerous. You couldget hurt.”
She casts her gaze downward, nodding contritely. “I know. Sorry, Jazz.”
The last of my anger melts away and I can’t help feeling a twinge of guilt. I know the only reason she broke this rule is because I riled her up about her bedtime.
Reaching out, I gently pat her head in a gesture of reassurance. “There’s no need to rush,” I tell her. “I’ll give you a bedtime extension but you have to promise not to do this again—you need a grown-up around for bath time.”
She nods eagerly, grinning up at me as she holds out her pinkie finger. “Promise.”
I arch a brow at her as I link pinkies. “A pinkie swear? You know what happens if you break one of these, right?”
She shakes her head, eyes wide with curiosity.
My lips curve with amusement. “Well, first your teeth fall out, then your hair, then your toenails. It happened to Piper once.”
Izzy’s forehead creases in puzzlement. “Piper has teeth.”
“She was lucky. They were her baby teeth. It took forever for those toenails to grow back, though.”
She’s thoughtful for a moment, then shrugs. “I keep promise.”
