Page 139 of Summer Holiday Lifeline

“Of course.” Priory hung up, and Myles tossed his phone across the couch like it was the phone’s fault Priory had pissed him off.

“Uncle Myles?” Jet leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes still red.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks, eh?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Shelly pushed past him, both arms wrapped around the heavy stoneware swear jar.

“Oh dear.” Myles sighed and pulled out his own wallet. “How much?”

“Six.”

Myles nodded.

“You were mad,” she said, as matter-of-fact as she ever got.

“I was mad.”

“But you still shouldn’t swear.”

“Eh.” The swear jar had been a Natalie thing, and Myles wasn’t about to take that away from her, but he had a different view of the way language worked. Still. He handed over a five and a loonie and watched as Shelly carefully folded the bill to fit through the slot in the jar’s lid.

“Hey.” Pat appeared behind Jet. “Who wants hot dogs?”

As if understanding exactly what she’d said, MJ appeared from nowhere to run in yapping circles around the room, alternately skidding into walls and tugging at everyone’s pant legs to get them moving towards the door.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Pat was happy to walk the kids and dog to the hot dog cart and let Myles not strain his hip. Instead, Myles retrieved his pail of floor water and dumped it down the sink without even finishing the task he’d set himself.

The house didn’t care if there were crumbs on the floor. The kids didn’t care. The dog cared only because they might be delicious. Or they’d make him puke, but puke was, apparently, delicious, because dogs were both necessary and disgusting.

If Pat cared about crumbs, she would have swept them up when they’d been dropped there. She hadn’t, presumably, because she had been more focused on the people whose company she was enjoying, and wasn’t that the whole goddammed point?

The only person who cared about crumbs was Myles. He could choose to let it go.

It did leave him wondering about Steven’s house, though, and the outcome of Ozzy’s roof investigation. He tried calling, but Steven’s phone went to voicemail. A quick check of the time and he realized that wasn’t surprising. It was the middle of the day, and this wouldn’t be the first time Steven hadn’t answered because he was working.

He’d call back when he had a chance.

On impulse, Myles called Ozzy instead.

“Myles? Everything okay?”

“Grand.”

Ozzy hmmmed. “Putting you on speaker. Tris is here.”

“Sure.”

“What’s up?”

Myles took a deep breath and let it out. “Just tore a strip out of Priory for how he was dealing with Jet’s visits, and school. He tell you about that?”

“He did” was all Ozzy said, and in such a neutral tone there was no way to discern what he thought about it.