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She looks over at her brother. Wilby gives him a little shove forward. He huffs but stretches out his hand, dropping his gaze to the floor. "I'm Kolby."
I walk over to shake it. "Hey, Kolby. I'm Col."
His sour mood changes immediately. He looks up, smiles—aw, he's missing his front teeth—then asks me excitedly, "Do we have the same name?"
"Almost," I say. "Col is short for Colwyn."
He turns back toward Wilby. "Can I change my name to Colwyn? That's so much cooler than Kolby."
"If you're both called Col, how will you know if I'm talking to you or Col?"
"Easy. I can be Little Col, he can be Big Col."
Wilby glances at me and for a split second, I canseethe dirty thought that crosses his mind. Or maybe I'm projecting because my mind goes to a totally non-PG place.
He places a hand on his nephew's shoulder. "Let me think about it. In the meantime, what are we going to do about that homework?"
Kolby looks at his feet. "I dunno."
"Have you started?" Wilby presses.
"Almost."
"You've almost started your homework?"
Kolby keeps looking down.
Wilby steps around and crouches in front of him. "Mate, look at me, please."
He lifts his head. "What?"
I recognize the petulance in his voice. I used that tone a time or two with Dad.
"One, you don't lie to me. That's not on. And two, tell me what the problem is with your homework."
"It's too hard. I don't get it."
"Which subject?"
"Maths."
"I can help," I offer.
Everyone turns to look at me.Uh-oh.Why am I even butting in? My mouth is getting me into all sorts of trouble today…annndwe're back in non PG-land.
"That's a great idea." Wilby's face lights up. "Col works in finance, so he'll be a whiz at maths."
"Would you help me?" Kolby asks shyly.
"Of course. After we have some food."
The kids go back to their rooms since they ate earlier.
"Food's in the oven," Polly says, untying her apron and hooking it by the front door.
"You're not staying?"
She sends me a smile. "Gotta get home and watch me programs."
