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“Aren’t we doing that right now, little sister?”
I rolled my eyes at her attempted humor—my chest was too tight, face too hot about the subject to joke over it. Which was embarrassing in and of itself, because no matter what other variables came into play, thefactremained that I was still flustered over a—possibly—unreciprocated crush from a decade ago.
It was pitiful.
Before I could reply—and keep this wonderful conversation going—the door to the gym room opened and Yaya, Alicia’s daughter, came toddling in, as fast as her little feet could carry her. She was closely followed by her father. Their energy brought an immediate, pleasant shift in energy.
I’d never been more glad to have Yaya’s little hands reaching up at me.
“Hi Dee-Deeeee,” she sang at me, squealing as I tickled under her chin. “You’re fighting with my ‘Lesha?”
“Not in the way you think, lil’ bit,” I told her, shooting a glance at my sister, and Cree, who stood beside her. “We were just finishing a conversation, but I think we’re done, which means you can help me find a pancake somewhere in this house, right?”
Yaya was incredulous, her teensy eyebrows folding together in a frown. “I dunno. Daddy said maybe cereal.”
I let out a fake gasp. “I think Daddy just didn’t feel like making them,” I said, with a teasing smile at Cree. “But that’s what Dee-Dees are for!”
“Okay!” was her cheerful response, and I used her enthusiasm as my cover to get the hell out of there, away from this dialogue I didn’t care to have.
I’d much rather spend my morning loving on my niece.
