Page 10 of Out Of A Fix

After a quick perusal, I concluded that she was not wrong. “Okay, so yeah, we gotta go, because I can’t eat any of that.”

“It’s gross, right?”

“It’s not gross,” I said, not wanting to throw her father under the bus. “But I’m not one for processed food. I eat a lot of veggies and grilled chicken.”

“Gross.”

“But we can make other things too,” I offered.

The instant smile, how big her eyes grew, was quite telling. She was starved for home-cooked meals. I was betting, from the look of the large kitchen, that her mother had been the one making the meals for her family.

“I told him not to get so much junk, but he was in a hurry to leave.”

Which sounded horrible. “Well,” I said, closing the door, “can we walk it, or is there a car here I can borrow?”

“You could drive Mom’s Jeep. The keys are on the hooks by the garage door.”

“Sounds good. Now, where is everybody, honey?”

“Dad is in some place called Blaze or Blake or something like that. I wasn’t really listening, and he didn’t write it down. I do know he’s on a big landscaping job for a millionaire or a billionaire, but…”

“You weren’t really listening,” I concluded, smiling at her.

She nodded. “Yeah. I know he had to go and not miss this job because I heard him tell Grampy we need the money.”

Which was not great that she knew, but eavesdropping was probably something that happened all the time when you had kids.

“Aunt Shelly was supposed to check on us, but I haven’t seen her, and I don’t have her number.”

How did she not have her number? “Your father didn’t leave an emergency contact list for you in case something went wrong?”

She shook her head. “I think because Griff is here too.”

Disappointing. “Okay,” I replied, thinking that I was going to murder Aunt Shelly unless she had a hell of an excuse for not showing up. “And where is your brother⁠—”

“She’s not actually my aunt,” Tatum clarified. “She’s one of Mom’s friends.”

“Gotcha.”

She stared at me.

“Yes?”

“It’s so weird to be saying Mom after so long. None of us ever say it.”

“Why’s that?”

“I dunno.”

“Why do you think?”

She was quiet, ruminating. I liked how her mind worked, that she didn’t blurt out answers, instead giving real thought to my questions. “I don’t want to make Dar or Griff sad, and I don’t want Dad to get angry.”

“Okay,” I said, thinking that I could, and would, change that. No one was going to heal by not talking. That was not how it worked, and as a fixer, it was in our mandate to fix everything. I wasn’t simply a bodyguard. I was there to do more. “Now, where is Darwin?”

“He’s at his friend Teddy’s house. He has a biology test on Tuesday, and he didn’t want to be here with me and Griff. He likes to study without being bugged.”

This wasn’t making any sense. “Don’t you all have school tomorrow?”