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I waited until she went, then said, “Is she okay?”
Dad shook his head as he opened the dishwasher. “She’s stressed. Having your aunt and grandpa in the house twenty-four-seven is getting to her. They’re picking at just about everything. Your grandpa complained there was one half-dead leaf on the plant earlier.”
I picked up a plate to scrape the leftovers in the trash. “She knows what they’re like. She didn’t have to have them stay for a week if she didn’t want them to.”
“I know that, but you know how she can’t say no to them.”
“I’ll arrange it next time. Everyone will be on vacation.” I scraped the last plate off and carried them over to Dad.
His lips twitched and took the plates from me. “Good thinking, sweetie. Until then, can you leave your phone in your room at mealtimes?”
“I have a better idea,” I said brightly. “How about I just don’t eat here until they’ve gone? Everyone wins.”
“Can I join you for that dinner?”
“How about me, you, and Mom go out, and we leave the skeletons to fend for themselves?”
He choked back a laugh and almost dropped a glass. “Okay, I don’t need to tell you that you shouldn’t call your relatives skeletons.”
“But I’m going to anyway.”
“And after the past few days, I’m not going to confront you about it.” Dad chuckled, putting the last of the dishes in the dishwasher. “We can’t leave them alone. They’ll burn down the kitchen, and we’ve had enough fires in this family for a while, thank you.”
I rolled my eyes and grabbed a wet cloth to wipe the table. “That was a total accident, and you know it.”
“I do.” He grabbed me and kissed my hair. “I can take care of this. Go get your phone and talk to your boss. You’ve kept him waiting long enough.”
“It’s nothing important. I just had a little accident at work, and he was gone when I got back from lunch. He’s just checking in.”
“Oh no. What did you do?”
“Spilled coffee. Hot coffee.” I paused. “Thankfully, on the desk, not him, and a miracle made me miss the electronics.”
He chuckled quietly, pushing the dishwasher closed. “Now there is a miracle if I’ve ever seen one. I can finish the kitchen. I get a break from the skeletons—your mom doesn’t. Go do your thing.”
“Hey. Why can you call them skeletons but I can’t?”
He shrugged. “I pay the bills. Now, before you go—I told your mom to take a hot bath. Take her this.” He grabbed the bottle of Jack and filled a glass almost to the brim. “Tell her to not put a ton of water in.”
I laughed and picked it up, then grabbed my phone. “Gotcha. Thanks, Dad.” I darted away before I was caught up in anything else.
It took me only a few seconds to get up the stairs and knock on the bathroom where Mom was running a bath. “Mom? Are you good?”
The lock clicked, and she opened it to reveal her wrapped in her fleece robe. “What’s up, honey?”
“Dad sent this.” I handed her the full glass of Jack.
She smiled, taking it from me. “Thanks, Mal. Sorry I haven’t been nice.”
I waved a hand. “Nah, it’s okay. I mean, Grandpa’s here with his ornery self, and Aunt Grace is a pain in the ass, and if you discount those entirely, I totally disrupted your sex life, so…”
“That’s enough!” She laughed, moving to shut the door.
I stepped back, laughing, and let her do just that. She clearly needed her own time, so I crossed the hall and went into my room with my phone. I was finally able to bring up my last message from Cameron, and I unlocked my phone as I jumped onto my bed.
Cameron: They probably were. It’s been a while since I organized that desk.
Cameron: Hello?
I snorted.
Me: Sorry. Grandpa took offense at ‘kids these days’ using their phones at the dinner table. And by a while, do you mean a year?
His response came a lot faster than I thought I would.
Cameron: Sounds like my family dinners. And yeah, a year is about right…
Me: Do you need me to sort your desk out?
Cameron: Is that an offer to remove all my ex’s shit from my office?
Me: When did you break up?
Cameron: 18 months.
Me: It’s not an offer. I’m going to sort your desk out so hard tomorrow. That is ridiculous.
Cameron: All right, all right. I officially put you in charge of sorting out my office. Bring your rubber gloves.
Me: Is it that bad? Should I stop by the store for cleaning supplies?
Cameron: No, but we might be out of milk…
Me: Milk and rubber gloves, then.
Cameron: Now that’s work talk.
Me: I’ll even answer the phones in between.
Cameron: Carry on.
Me: I’ll pour you coffee and call you Mr. Reid.
Cameron: Is it too early in this working relationship to say that was kind of professionally hot?
