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Mel tried to think of a change of topic, to ease the sudden awkwardness between them. The last thing she wanted was them feeling sorry for her. It’s why she rarely unloaded on them about her financial issues or her stress at home. For all her friends knew, she was completely fine. A little run-down, maybe, but perfectly content with her status quo.
“So, uh . . .” Caroline was the first to break the silence. “Maybe this is too soon to ask, but . . . When do I get my raise?”
And just like that, all three of them laughed, and the ice was broken.
BLAKE
BLAKE RAN FROM THE living room into the bedroom, where the kids had headed due to the alien invasion. All things considered, the first half of the day went pretty well. Peter peed himself, but other than that, there were no poop incidents, and they hadn’t completely barreled over him. Instead, they had breakfast, then he coerced them each into coloring a picture for Mel in her new office, followed by Blake’s spur of the moment alien game. Thus far, the game worked to maintain some semblance of order throughout the morning, but now the tiny apartment was bordering on a zoo again. If he didn’t do something quickly to reign them back in, he’d lose control.
All three of the kids bounced on Mel’s bed, giggling and shoving each other, their little foil hats askew. They were one tiny push away from knocking themselves out on the nightstand, and though Blake wouldn’t mind a bit of peace and quiet, he wasn’t sure rendering them unconscious was the best idea.
“Hey! Attention!” Blake’s voice boomed through the tiny room.
All three kids froze and stared wide-eyed. Thank you, Grant.
“I have a new game. It’s actually a competition. Do you know what a competition is?”
Peter nodded, his little blue eyes bright. “You win prizes.”
Blake pointed. He was exhausted beyond belief, but he couldn’t let up now. “That’s right. You do win a prize.”
“Ooh! Ooh! What’s the prize?” Brady asked, raising his hand, bouncing up and down again.
Crap. What could he give them? Guess he should’ve thought about that first.
“Why don’t we come down on the floor and I’ll tell you,” he said, hedging.
Blake grinned as the three of them scrambled to get their feet on solid ground. Once they stood in front of him, their bare feet digging into the plush carpet, eyes on his face, he smiled. “Do you like prizes?” he asked.
“Yeah!” they roared in unison.
Their round faces stared up at him. The monsters were kind of cute when they weren’t little terrors. Peter, with his blond halo of hair, Kinsley with her soft brown curls, and Brady with his sparkling brown eyes.
“Great.” Blake rubbed his hands together, thinking fast. Then an idea popped into his head. “Brownie sundaes with hot fudge and whipped cream,” he said slowly, letting their juvenile minds soak in the prospect of sugar. What kid doesn’t like ice cream?
“And sprinkles?” Kinsley asked, pushing her unruly curls out of her face with her little hands.
“And rainbow sprinkles. With a cherry on top.”
All three dove at him and wrapped their arms around his legs in a giant hug, a gesture he’d watched them do with Mel all last week when she walked through the door. For such little things, their grip was surprisingly strong as they squeezed, and this little gesture of affection did something to his heart. His insides warmed and turned soft as he stared down at them. He had a feeling they could easily crack into his heart if he let them.
“What’s the game?” Brady asked.
“Mommy is going to be home in a couple hours. And it looks like Hurricane Katrina just occurred in the living room,” Blake started.
Kinsley scrunched her nose. “What’s Hurricane Katrina?”
“Never mind. But here’s the competition. I’m going to set the buzzer on the stove for twenty-five minutes, and whoever cleans up the most stuff and puts it away before it goes off, wins a sundae the size of their face.”
Peter’s eyes went so wide, Blake feared they might pop from their sockets. He grinned as Peter mumbled, “The size of my face,” sounding like a zombie.
“Wait a minute.” Brady narrowed his eyes on him, and it didn’t surprise Blake that he was the one that would question and analyze this offer. “I didn’t see you with any ice cream.”
Peter frowned. “Yeah. And Mom doesn’t like us having sugar.”
“She says it makes us rowdy,” Kinsley added.
Blake sensed a mutiny coming, so he hurried to reassure them. “I can call an uber and have them bring me what we need. They’ll be here shortly after we’re done cleaning.”
