Harry gives Mattie an ugly glare before turning to me. “Look, Luc, you can get us soft drinks this once. Millie’s sick. She won’t care,” he argues. Admirably, I might add.
“Nice try, Harry.” I glance at my watch again. Mrs. Chen will be here any second for Mattie’s lesson. I jog to the front door and open it. Her white minivan is pulling into the driveway.
Damn, I’m good.
Now she won’t ring the doorbell, Clarence won’t bark, and Millie can keep sleeping.
I go through a checklist in my head of what I’ve seen Millie doing each night before I leave. I turn back to the twins.
“Harry, go upstairs andquietlytell Emmett he needs toquietlytake a bath, and then youquietlyfeed Clarence.” Harry opens his mouth, presumably to argue, but I adopt the tone I take with my workers. No nonsense AF. “No one is to wake up Millie. Are we clear?”
Harry ducks his head. “Yes, sir.”
Behind him at the piano, Mattie, eyes wide, just nods really fast.
While I wait in the drive-thru line at Raisin’ Cane’s Chicken Fingers, I open the Waitr app on my phone and place an order for me and Millie at La Pagua. It may not be what she usually gets, but a dinner of deep-fried chicken strips, crinkle-cut fries, coleslaw and Texas toast is not what she’s going to want, and I don’t blame her.
I mean, it smells great, but it’s the kind of meal that would haveGymtop my Daily Three for a whole week.
And if I’m being honest with myself, I haven’t been attending to my priorities the way I should the last few days. After Saturday’s soccer game, I told myself I’d go out with Cesar, flirt with some girls at Red’s, open up to the possibility of finding someone to take Millie off my mind.
It’s what I should be doing. But hell if I want to.
Sure, I’d go to Legend’s with Cesar to drink a few beers and watch a Saints game, but the thought of clubbing, of checking out someone who isn’t Millie just holds no interest for me.
By the time I get back to the Delacroix’s, Mattie’s piano lesson is wrapping up, and all three kids—even Mattie—descend on the fast food like vultures. They don’t seem too surprised when I tell them to eat at the table, so my guess is this is a family rule that Millie enforces.
Ten minutes later, Waitr arrives, and I come back from the front door to find all three of Millie’s siblings piled on the sectional in front ofGortimer Gibbons. The table is still littered with gaping Styrofoam containers, plastic tubs of dipping sauce, chicken finger crumbs.
That’s not gonna fly.
“Hey.” The edge in my voice makes all three look up. My hands are full of takeout bags, so I point to the table with my chin. “Is that how you leave a table?”
They twist around and take in the table behind them. Mattie gets up first, but her brothers are quick to follow.
It shouldn’t piss me off, but it does. Because if they leave shit like that all the time, then there’s just one person in this house picking up everything. I remember my first day here. The mess in the kitchen. Is it like that every meal? Every day.
“Hey guys,” I say, keeping my voice as level as possible, but I’ll admit, it still might be a little scary. “From now on, you clear your place. Don’t leave it for your sister to do. That’s not cool.”
All three of them nod.
“You’re right,” Harry says.
“Yeah,” Mattie says.
“We’ll be better, Luc,” Emmett says, looking up at me like a stray puppy. “We promise.”
I snort a laugh. Maybe they’re just blowing smoke, but it works. “I’m going to check on Millie.” I turn and head for the stairs.
The staircase sweeps up to the second floor hallway, leaving me with six doorways to choose from. I go right. I’m not even sure why. It’s as quiet as a closet up here, but I aim for the room at the end of the hall.
A few of the doors stand open. One is a bathroom, and another has to be Emmett’s room. There’s a stuffed snowman with a pointy head lying face-up on the ground. I think it’s the one fromFrozen.My cousin Natalia’s little girl Sofie used to watch that movie on a loop. She had lots of the princess merch, but I don’t think she had the stuffed snowman. On the floor beside it are some Avenger action figures. Iron Man. Captain America. Is that Bucky Barnes?
They make Bucky Barnes action figures?
I’m sure Emmett will tell me all about it later. I continue down the hall. The last door is open. A pair of teal scrubs dot the floor at the foot of the bed, and a Millie-sized shape huddles under the covers.
Even though I have food in hand and it’s hot, I don’t want to wake her. I just want to make sure she has everything she needs. I’ll go as soon as I know she’s okay. One step into the room, and I hear a jingle, and Clarence emerges from the far side of the bed.
