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I follow. Of course, I follow. I want to follow Leia wherever she goes.
“Hi Storm,” Isla greets a girl on the doorstep.
“You must be Leia,” the woman next to Storm says. “I’m Honor.” She turns to greet me and her eyes widen. “And who’s this?” she asks as she rakes her gaze up and down me.
I grunt.
Leia waves a hand toward me. “This is Grumpy Pants MacGrumpy.”
Honor licks her bottom lip. “I can handle a bit of grumpy.”
Leia steps in front of me. The move is possessive. Is she jealous? I cough to hide my smirk. Me smirking at her show of jealousy would piss her off. Although, I do enjoy a pissed off Leia.
“I’m sorry but Isla’s not allowed to attend the movie.”
Honor sighs. “I know. Someone,” she glares at her daughter, “didn’t tell me which movie they wanted to see.”
“It’s not a big deal,” Isla and Storm say together.
“What are you doing here if you’re not picking up Isla for the movie?” Leia asks.
“I thought Isla might want to come over and have dinner with us,” Honor says.
“Yeah!” Isla jumps up and down before rushing out of the house holding hands with Storm.
“Isla!” Leia calls after her. “Did you forget something?”
Isla glances down at her feet. “Nope.”
Leia crosses her arms over her chest. “Try again.”
Isla sighs. “Please, Mom, can I go to Storm’s house for dinner?”
“Do you really want two tweens in your house at once?” Leia asks Honor.
Honor snorts in response. “I have two teenage boys at home. I can handle two tween girls.”
“If she’s any trouble, give me a ring and I’ll come pick her up.”
“I will. Nice meeting you.” Honor waves as she leaves with the girls.
Leia shuts the door after her. “You know what this means?”
I have a whole bunch of ideas of what this could mean. “What?”
Leia’s eyes sparkle. “We get to eat all the cookies.”
I step closer. I’m down with eating all of her cookies.
The kitchen timer buzzes and she hurries to the kitchen. Oh, those cookies.
She removes the baking sheet from the oven and sets it on the stove. She frowns at the lump-sized cookies. “I don’t think my daughter is going to be a baker.”
I snag a cookie and bite into it. It’s a bit hot but the flavor is fine. “Tastes good to me.”
She hands me a glass of milk. “Sorry, I don’t have any asbestos for your throat.”
I shrug as I drink my milk. “Hot food doesn’t bother me.”
