It’s impossible not to smile at how fast she launches herself at Gran, arms wrapping so tight I worry about the structural integrity of both parties. Gran just cackles and absorbs the impact.
“What are you doing here?” Pia squeals, not letting go.
“Well, we heard there was a new addition to the family.”
Pia is beaming and all but vibrating in her spot. She’s doing her pee dance, and it’s like her brain suddenly remembers she’s seconds away from pissing herself, which after the trauma her lady bits suffered recently is quite likely. She suddenly breaks away and dashes out of the room, shouting over her shoulder, “Don’t eat all the pancakes!”
I slide off my stool and take over from Mum at the stove, ignoring her protests and one attempted flick of flour at my nose. She finally gives in and settles back at the island with Gran, who keeps flicking her gaze to the stairs because she’s growing impatient. Todd is obviously in charge of Meena’s morning poopy butt and he’s taking his sweet time.
Jenna and Grandad are mid-argument about the merits of a 3-5-2 formation, and Gran’s eyes find mine over her teacup as I look over at them all.
“You doing alright?” she says. I know she’s not asking about breakfast.
“Yeah.” I nod, surprising myself by how true it feels. Gran knows how hard it was for me when Sloane disappeared. She was a rock, as usual, and she helped nurse me through it by being the kick up the bum kind of person I needed. She didn’t let me wallow for too long, and she knewhow to get me to express my feelings through painting. After all, I’m just like her, and it’s how we deal with shit.
Gran’s smile goes sly. “Sloane’s good?”
“She is, and we’re working through things. We’re dating again.”
Gran places her cup on the counter and hops off the stool to stand by my side. “I’m happy for you, love. She’s a good girl. I knew she’d come back sooner or later.”
I grin stupidly. “I’m really bloody pleased you were right.”
The sound of Pia’s footsteps as she returns gives me a moment to compose myself.
“You better have saved me at least three,” she warns, eyeing the stack like it’s a pile of rare gems. Shit, she reminds me of Jenna and her cereal guarding phase.
I don’t expect to hear from Sloane for most of today. She’s going to be Type A-ing her cute arse all the way through her mentoring. It’s just how she is. A small part of me is worried she’ll struggle, but then I have to remember what she’s already been through and how she came out the other side stronger. Sloane doesn’t need my worry, she needs my support.
Todd finally pads in with Meena in his arms. The dude doesn’t even have time to register my gran before she’sall up in his face, asking if she can hold his daughter. He mumbles a “sure” before handing her over. Gran disappears and I doubt we’ll see her again anytime soon. Mum laughs and follows her. Jenna hops from her seat and guides Todd to the island, where she slides a plate of food in front of him.
“I don’t know what just happened,” he says through mouthfuls of pancake.
“My gran just happened,” I say, laughing and slapping him on the back.
“I’m so tired,” he says, earning a glare from Pia.
“Really? I didn’t realise it was you sitting with a baby latched to your boob for half the night!”
There is a tension I’m not liking here. Pia has been short with Todd ever since she went into labour. I thought it was just the situation, but now I’m worried there’s more to it.
I’ll keep my eye on Pia. We’ve not had a chance to talk in a little while, so we’re due for a check in. It’ll be easier to do now. We have most of my family stepping in to help with Meena.
I finish the last batch and set the pan aside, knocking the heat off before the entire kitchen smells like burnt butter. Jenna is trying to eat pancakes as fast as she canbefore Pia sees the stack diminish, but even she seems full after the fourth one.
Todd eats like someone who just survived a shipwreck and doesn’t know when the next meal will come. I pile extra onto a plate and send him off to the living room with a grunted promise that I’ll bring him coffee in a minute. He doesn’t protest.
It’s just me and Pia for a second, as I expected it would be. She’s still standing, one hand braced on the countertop, the other rubbing at her eyes. The look on her face is raw and exhausted.
I slide a mug across to her with a healthy measure of oat milk and two sugars already stirred in. “Go on, drink. You look like you’ve been personally mugged.”
She snickers, but it’s not her usual easy laughter. “Meena woke up four times. I feel like my soul has ringworm.”
“That’s a disgusting metaphor,” I say, “but effective.”
She grins, and for a second, it’s just like old times. Just us against the world.
“Thanks for the coffee,” her voice going smaller, “and the pancakes. I know I’m a bitch these days.”
