Victor stopped the cart and turned slowly, staring at the box and scowling. “That is candy disguised as cereal. Not breakfast.”
“It has grains,” Pip argued, as Belle covered her mouth, hiding her grin.
God help them all, because Pip was too damn smart.
“It has more marshmallows than grains. Moving on.” Victor started pushing the cart again.
“What about Reese’s Puffs?” Pip asked.
“Also candy.”
“Nuh-uh,” Pip said, shaking her head. “It has peanut butter and I’m ’llowed to eat that for lunch.”
Victor didn’t even bother to stop this time. “Still sugar.”
Pip turned toward Belle, whispering loudly, dramatically holding one hand to the side of her mouth as if to keep him from reading her lips. “Uncle Vic is beingmean.”
“I can hear what you’re saying,” he grumbled.
“That’s because I’m talking,” Pip said matter-of-factly.
Belle bit her lip, struggling hard not to laugh, because watching Victor and Pip go toe-to-toe over breakfast cereal might be her favorite thing ever.
Victor grabbed a box of cereal off the shelf and dropped it into the cart with a decisivethunk. “There. Bran flakes.”
Pip looked seriously traumatized. “Those taste like sadness.”
Victor’s lips twitched, and he had to turn his head away from Pip for a moment. “No, they don’t. Have you ever even tried them?”
“I don’t want to. I can tell by the box they’re gross,” Pip said, her arms crossed.
“What if,” Belle said carefully, “we get one fun cereal and one boring cereal?”
Victor narrowed his eyes. “Thought we were eating healthier this week?”
Belle shrugged. “We are. Our dinners are chef’s kiss perfection.” She kissed her fingertips as she spoke the last three words. “So much so, we could probably indulge in one bowl of fun cereal every other morning.”
Belle was proud of her compromise, but she should have known Pip was made of sterner stuff. “Does that mean I have to eat the boring cereal too?”
“Yes,” Victor barked. “What do you say, Pip? It’s Belle’s suggestion, or we skip the cereal completely and I’ll make you oatmeal every morning.”
Pip’s eyes widened in true terror. If there was one thing the little girl hated more than anything else, it was oatmeal. And her uncle knew it. “I’ll eat the boring cereal. But only every other day.”
“Deal,” Victor said, nodding at Belle, who added the Reese’s Puffs to the cart. “But just so you know, you’re going to eat a whole bowl of the bran flakes. None of that game where you eat two bites and declare yourself ‘too full.’”
“I only did that one time,” Pip argued.
“It was yesterday,” Victor reminded her.
“But it was green beans, not cereal.” Pip refused to go down without a fight. And the fact that she’d put up a fuss about the green beans, which she usually loved, told Belle just how close they’d come to destroying her eating habits in one week.
“I’ll eat it. Promise,” Pip said, holding out her pinky the way Vivian had taught her. Pinky swears were solemn in their household.
Belle couldn’t stand how stinking cute it was when the giant of a man looped his pinky with Pip, accepting the promise.
“Congratulations,” he said to Belle. “Our nutritional downfall continues.”
Belle laughed. “Baby steps.”
