‘I swear, every morning, it’s like she hasn’t seen you in a year,’ Brittany said from beside the highchair in which her daughter sat eating toast.
‘Good morning, my angel,’ Jenny said, holding the sweet cherub face between her hands and kissing the plump little cheeks. ‘Did you have a good sleep?’
‘Yeah!’ the toddler called out, as she always did.
Jenny flicked the jug on, leaning against the bench as she waited for the water to re-boil, her half-made cup of coffee with the granules and sugar already added sitting where Brittany had left it for her. She smiled at how their little world had fallen into this new, grown-up version of a routine. It was different from only a few years earlier when Jenny was running from the moment her feet hit the floor in the morning till she fell into bed at night: getting kids dressed; making lunches; organising pick-up times and sports practice, play dates and homework—always looking at the clock and wondering where the time went.
She glanced at the clock now, more out of habit, and swore under her breath as she called out, ‘Chloe! Get out of the shower!’
Some things never changed, she guessed.
‘Morning,’ Savannah said with a yawn as she shuffled into the kitchen with bed-hair and bleary eyes.
‘What time did you get in last night?’ Brittany asked, eyeing her younger sister doubtfully.
‘Late,’ Savannah snapped.
‘Geez, have some coffee or something. I was just asking.’
Wordlessly, Jenny passed a cup to her daughter and watched her sink into the chair across from Sophie.
After a few sips of coffee and a bite of Sophie’s soggy Vegemite toast, Savannah was ready for conversation. ‘So, Mum, I wanted to run something by you.’
‘Okay,’ Jenny said, buttering her toast.
‘It’s my birthday next week,’ Savannah said.
‘I am aware. I was present on the day.’
‘Yes. Well. I’d like to have a party and I thought we could have it at the Coach House.’
‘Why?’ Jenny asked, as blandly as she could manage.
‘Because I don’t want two separate birthday dinners with Dad and you this year. I want to hang out with my friends as well as my family, and I can’t do that if I have to spend this day here, and that day there, and then try and find time to go out with my friends. Everyone in the one location would be easier. And I assume you don’t want to host it here with Dad and Christy … So, I thought, the pub,’ she finished brightly.
‘You just don’t want to get stuck at Dad’s with Christy,’ Brittany commented, passing her daughter another piece of toast.
‘Well, that too.’
Jenny thought about reminding them they should try and get on with their father’s girlfriend for his sake, but then realised Austin was a dick and she didn’t really care if they liked his girlfriend or not.
‘Well, okay. If that’s what you want.’
‘Great. I booked a table for next Saturday.’
Too bad if she’d had any misgivings then, Jenny thought sarcastically.
The rest of breakfast passed in a blur with Savannah issuing jobs and making lists, and Jenny was relieved to head off to work for a break. Somehow, she’d raised a mini dictator—when it came to social events, Savannah was like her father.
