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“Not long,” I assured him. “We’ll eat and then I’ll give you a bath and you can take a shower, Ivy.”
“I don’t want to,” Tristan groaned. “Baths suck.”
“You don’t want to be dirty, do you?” I tweaked his nose.
“I’d rather be dirty than wet,” he grumbled, crossing his small arms over his chest. His too small shirt rode up, exposing his stomach. I was going to have to start picking up some new clothes for him whenever I had some extra money.
“Stop whining, Tristan. You know it doesn’t work with me,” I warned him with a steely gaze.
His arms lowered and he let out a pent up breath. “Fine. Will you read me a story tonight?”
“Don’t I read you a story every night?” I countered with a raised brow.
“Yeah, but sometimes you fall asleep,” he giggled.
“Sorry about that,” I hung my head shamefully. I tried my best to be a parent for my siblings, but it was hard. I had school and work. When I got home it was late and I was exhausted. I wished I could afford for a babysitter to watch them, but I didn’t have the money…not if I wanted to buy food. I already had to pay for Tristan to stay in after school care since he was only there for half a day. My stepfather was just as bad, if not worse than my mom. He didn’t drink, but he constantly smoked in the house, had a lousy job, and was just plain creepy.
“It’s okay, Row,” Tristan opened his arms for a hug.
I held him close. It amazed me that two kids that had nothing could be as sweet as Tristan and Ivy.
I let him go and stirred the macaroni. When it was done, I strained it and put it in a bowl. I dumped the ingredients in the bowl and handed Ivy a spoon. “Stir, sweetie.”
She mixed it as thoroughly as she could, but in the end I had to help her.
“Ivy, why don’t you get the plates?” I nodded my head at the cabinet that housed them.
“Sure,” she smiled, eager to please me.
She grabbed three plates, hopped off the counter, and scurried over to the card table that served as our only eating surface.
I helped Tristan down and carried the pot over to the table where I loaded our plates with macaroni.
“Wash your hands before you eat,” I warned them.
With heads bowed, they did as I said. I cleaned the pot and washed my hands before joining them at the table.
“It’s good, Row,” Tristan smiled at me with trusting eyes. It broke my heart every time I saw that look in his eyes. He and Ivy trusted me completely…to love them…to protect them…but how could I ever do those things when I wasn’t a whole person? I was shattered…broken…unimportant.
“Thanks, Tristan,” I ruffled his hair, hoping the innocent little boy couldn’t see the darkness inside me.
“You’re the best sister,” he leaned into my touch, like a dog begging to be petted.
“Hardly,” I laughed.
They helped me wash the dishes and then it was time to give Tristan his bath. After a lot of grumbling I finally got him into the warm water. I really wished I’d had time to change my clothes. Giving Tristan a bath in a pencil skirt wasn’t practical. Damn Trenton Wentworth.
I let Tristan splash around for a few minutes before I washed and shampooed his hair.
“Pull the drain plug,” I pointed to the stopper. He pulled it and the water began to whoosh out.
He stood and I helped him out. I wrapped a towel around his small frame, drying his body, and then his hair so it stuck up around his head like a bird’s feathers.
I led him down the hall to the room he shared with Ivy.
Ivy was reclined on her bed, playing with her dolls. “Shower, Ivy.”
“I wanna play,” she whined.
