“Ivy, I want you to collect all the trash in the house. From the kitchen, the bathrooms, the bedrooms.” Then I narrowed my eyes at her, remembering the debacle with Junie’s toothbrush. “Do not throw anything away that shouldn’t be thrown away, or I’ll take all the stuffies off your bed and donate them to the Harringtons next door.”
Ivy gave a horrified gasp.
“Theo, I want you to clean up your toys that you have all over the house.”
He leaned his little head on the kitchen table. “I don’t have that many.”
“Tell that to the soldier I stepped on in the bathroom this morning.”
His little lip jutted out in a pout.
“When you’re done,” I told them, taking turns looking each in the eye, “come find me for your next chore.”
“I don’t want to do chores so early,” Junie said, and then yawned. “I didn’t sleep good last night.”
“That’s what you get for staying up when you knew you shouldn’t. It’s calledconsequences. Now hop to it before I start a timer.”
Penn sat still at the table, glaring at the woodgrain as the kids slowly moved off to do their chores. I waited until I heard Ivy grab a trash bag from the kitchen, and until I heard footsteps on the stairs, before I lowered my voice. “You want to be the babysitter?” I asked her, planting myhand on the table. “You want to prove you can watch the kids all on your own, right?”
She hesitantly lifted her eyes to mine.
“I want you to make breakfast, then. No cereal, and no help.Andyou’re in charge of the dishes when we’re all done.” It was only one of the tasks of a thousand, but this was a better spot to start. “Being a babysitter isn’t just letting them do what they want. You have rules to follow—feeding them, making sure they’re safe, making sure they’re in bed on time.”
“I tried to get them into bed.” Penn dropped her eyes back to her hands. “It was… harder than I thought.”
Because the tone wasn’t set correctly. In their little minds, it was like they’d been given a substitute teacher at school, one that was easily able to be run over. “Then I guess we have to practice, then, huh?”
Penn’s scowl slipped then, finally revealing the barest hint of a smile.
While the kids all did their chores, I finally,blessedly,was able to brew my morning coffee. It still wasn’t quite eight o’clock yet, but I couldn’t help but wonder if Jamie was awake. Probably not. He’d had to drive home after leaving my house, so he would’ve gotten into bed even later.
On the kitchen table sat the piece of paper he’d given me, blank. I’d sat down to draw what he’d requested—intestines, gore, disembowelment—but as soon as I’d uncapped my marker on my keyring, I’d hesitated. For the first time in forever, I didn’twantto draw death. Not for Jamie.
So I’d capped my marker and gone to bed. Or tried to. I’d tossed and turned all night, unable to turn my mind off. My brain couldn’t visualize a drawing, but itcouldremember how Jamie and I had danced at the club. His palm on my hip, the two of us dancing mostly in time with the music. The same palm that’d pressed against the brick wall, his arm propped above me, shielding me from the rain.
Vivid. Helpful.
As I watched my coffee drip from the machine into my mug, my thoughts wandered further. Dancing with Dalton was like a dream that was hard to remember—if I focused, the scene took shape, but barely, like brushing the tips of my fingers to the memory. World’s different than with Jamie.
My phone started vibrating in my pocket, and I pulled it out, half afraid of who I’d find on the caller ID.
My mood soured a little anyway. “Hi, Mom.”
“Hi, Daisy,” she replied in a light, slightly groggy voice, as if she were just waking up. Then again, she might’ve been—she’d gotten to stay in the city last night, so that meant she could sleep in. “I was waiting for you to call last night, but you didn’t. Did Penn call you and tell you I had to stay in the city?”
“Yeah,” I said shortly. “She did.”
“You didn’t come rushing home, did you?”
I blinked, surprised. “What?”
“She’s been asking to babysit, so I figured she could handle a couple hours on her own. I called Mrs. Braxton next door, and she said she’d keep an eye out in case theyneeded anything. I didn’t want it ruining your night with friends.”
So Penn hadn’t kept it to herself on purpose—Momhad been the one to keep it from me. Unease buzzed through me. “I—I don’t really feel comfortable leaving Penn alone with the kids?—”
“Why not?” Mom’s voice was curious, but something else—firm. “It was only for a few hours. Penn texted and said you were back for bedtime.”
I didn’t want to tell Mom how much Penn had struggled, or that Penn had lied about me coming home. I didn’t want to make Penn look bad, but I also didn’t want this happening again. “I just think she needs to be eased into it more. It’s… a lot of responsibility.”
