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Izzy’s smile vanished in a blink. “I only make those for breakfast.” And it was clear from the rigid lines of her body that if she had her way Flora was never going to be invited for breakfast.
Flora moved the subject along. “Veggie burgers sound great. You made them yourself? I’m impressed. You’ll have to give me the recipe. I love to cook.”
“It was my mother’s secret recipe.”
The remark nudged Flora a little further out of the circle.
Izzy waited until the burgers were sizzling on the griddle, and then flipped them neatly.
Daunted by her cool competence, Flora focused on Molly. “Is your school close to here, Molly?”
Jack gently prized Molly’s hand from her mouth. “Are you going
to answer Flora?”
Flora thought the answer to that was going to be a quick shake of the head, but then Molly spoke.
“I can walk. Izzy takes me, because it’s close to her school.”
“That’s kind of her.”
“She’s my sister,” Izzy said. “It’s what sisters do.”
It seemed to Flora that Izzy was fulfilling more of a maternal role than a sisterly one, but she didn’t have the experience to judge.
“She does it because Daddy has gone when I wake up,” Molly said. “He goes to work early, but sometimes he comes home early to see me before bedtime.” This volley of information earned her another frustrated glance from her sister.
“Have you washed your hands, Moll?”
“Yes. Clean.” Molly waved her hands in the air. “Can I have more lemonade?”
“May I have,” Izzy said, “and also I didn’t hear a ‘please.’”
“May I, please?” Molly pushed her glass forward and Flora topped it up.
Thank goodness for Molly. “My favorite subject at school was art. What’s yours?”
“I used to like drawing.” Molly sipped her drink. “But I don’t anymore.”
“I love to draw.” Encouraged, Flora reached into her bag and pulled out the art pad and pencil she carried everywhere. “What’s your favorite animal?”
Molly stared at her. “A fox.”
Izzy frowned. “It’s a giraffe.”
“It’s a fox.” Molly was firm and Flora quickly sketched a fox, including a few trees in the background.
“There. You can keep it and color it if you like.” She pushed the sketch across the table, hoping to tempt the little girl, but before Molly could grab it, Izzy snatched it up.
“Molly doesn’t like coloring.” Izzy walked the picture across the kitchen. For a moment Flora thought she was going to dump it in the recycling but then at the last minute she seemed to change her mind and put it down on the countertop. “Fetch the salad, Molly. It’s ready in the fridge. And grab the ketchup. These are nearly ready.”
What had she done wrong? Why wouldn’t Izzy want Molly to color the picture?
Izzy toasted burger buns and put them on a plate in the center of the table, along with bowls of salad and the burgers themselves. “I didn’t put them together—that way everyone can take what they want.”
Flora decided that the best thing she could do with Izzy was make a fuss of the food.
She was about to reach for a bun when Izzy spoke.
