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“No. I’m good. I’m almost done anyways.” Maggie walked to the sink to rinse the washcloth she had in her hands. “Sydney, I hope you’re as good of a finder as you are a dyer because that bunny is a trickster.”
The two waved their goodbyes and Sydney gave Creature a few head scratches before she returned to put her head on Roadkill’s lap and let out a huff of disappointment.
“My goodness you’re a whiney one today,” Roadkill admonished the grumpy dog. “You had a dozen kids and you’re fussing because one of your favorites has to go home.”
Creature’s brows rose a bit before she let out another hard snorty snuff of disapproval of her lot in life.
“Porsche, can you stay over and maybe watch a movie with me and my Dad?” Sydney asked as she jumped down each step of the porch to the ground. Her energy on high while Porsche’s was dwindling.
“We’ll see kiddo.”
They walked to the trailer and found Mike sitting on the steps. “We’re home.” Syd ran towards her dad and gave him a hug.
“Hey Syd.” Mike hugged her tight, then started moving her ears as if checking for bugs. “Where are all the eggs?”
“We left them at Maggie’s for the Easter Bunny to hide,” she giggled. “I have to find them on Sunday. We’re going to be here, right? There’s a special one I made for you.”
“There is?” he questioned.
“Yep, with Dreamer’s help she camouflaged the egg,” she said. “The new, digital style.”
“Then how are we going to find it?” he questioned.
“Cuz, were not at sea and I made it the Navy way, like a good squid’s daughter.”
Mike arched an eyebrow and Porsche held in the laugh. The back and forth of the branches was all in good fun, but it didn’t change the fact the mix of branches MC was a family.
“Look here you pint sized calamari, how about you head inside, I’d like to but need to talk to Porsche for a bit.”
“Remember,” Sydney said as she stood with the door open. “You said you’d think about it.”
“Let me talk to the big man first,” Porsche said as she stood facing Mike who was almost eye to eye as he sat on the top step to the trailer.
“Stay for dinner, Turbo?” he questioned. “Is that what she asked?”
“Movie,” Porsche stepped a bit closer and if his feet were on the bottom step she would be standing between his legs and found herself placing her hand on his thigh.
“Then I’ll extend that invite,” he offered. “Any chance you know how to do more than boil eggs.”
“I didn’t boil the eggs,” she said. “That would be a Maggie thing, but I am a bit hungry and have been known to cook a meal or two.”
“So, is that a yes?”
“You sure you weren’t a Jarhead first, Bugs,” she teased placing her hand on top of his head and moving it side to side as if to hear the clink of crayons against glass. “Or I need to work on my flirt game.”
“Something tells me you never have an issue with your flirt game,” he countered standing, but offering a hand for her to walk up the steps.
“I do have to work at the Roadhouse tonight,” she said. “So I might not make it to the movie.”
“We’ll talk about that later.” Mike’s tone a bit demanding before he settled a bit. “Come be my sous chef, you good at following orders?”
On the surface Porsche didn’t mind. She knew she needed someone to tell her what to do or she’d end up crocheting spaghetti with her toes while playing the ukulele. Having a firm hand, when properly yielded was good for her in many ways. But when the hand goes further than the inch she allowed she knew exactly what to use to cut it off.
“Up until the point I’m not,” she countered.
* * *
Turbo had been willing to stay for at least half the movie and after dinner they sat in the living room. Syd was on the floor playing with a coupleBarbiedolls Turbo bought along with an older camper. She said something about the poor thing had been collecting dust at the general store in town and needed to be let free when he tried to pay the woman back. If nothing else his daughter was not only distracted, but enjoying herself.
