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“I don’t.” Dejonae squeals. “This’ll be fun. I’ll ask Yaya to pull some strings.” There’s a pause and then the sound of rushed movement. “I’ll need at least an hour. Is that enough time?”
“That’s perfect.”
“See you then.”
I hang up the phone and head back inside the house, tiptoeing past the living room to the kitchen. Nova didn’t eat my lasagna yesterday, so I’ll hold her hostage by making her some wheat pancakes and bacon.
I’m halfway through popping the bacon when Rowan emerges from his bedroom. His hair looks like a bird’s nest, he’s got a pillow crease on his cheek, and I think I see dried drool.
“Morning, kid.” I lift the spatula and flip the pancake. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine.” He yawns.
I turn the stove on low and approach him. “Let me see your hand.”
He sticks both out to me.
I check his palm, glad that I’m not seeing any allergic reactions to the goo. Placing my hand on his head, I check if he has a temperature.
He gives me a strong look. “What are you doing?”
“You don’t feel like you have a fever,” I mumble. “Is your stomach okay?”
“I didn’t eat any of that stuff.”
“You can never be too careful. If you start feeling uncomfortable, you need to tell me right away.”
“You sound like mom,” he grumbles.
I’ll take that as a compliment.
See? Once I put my mind to something, I can get better at it.
I grin proudly and return to the stove.
Rowan glances past me and notices the lump in the sofa. He points. “Is that Nova?”
“Yeah. She’s really tired so…” I put a finger to my lips.
He nods.
I gesture to the stove. “Want to help?”
“Are you going to get angry with me for how I cook again?”
I shake my head. “I’ll keep a close eye on you this time. If things get messy, I’ll clean up by myself.”
“Deal.” He takes over the pancakes from me.
I clear my throat. “So, uh, did you have any plans for the summer?”
“Not really.” He pours batter smoothly into the pan.
“Not even with your friends?”
He shrugs.
“Did you have a lot of friends back home?”
