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“If I’m not doing work for Fierce then I’m working on the house,” he said. “I can’t sit still any more than Devin can. Maybe we got that from Aunt Jolene.”
“You most likely did. At the end of my shift I want to come home and put my feet up. Your father too. Even my brother, Connor, is like that. But not you and Devin. You run around nonstop like my sister. Being like her, you should be able to run and hide too.”
“Oh,” he said, smirking. “I’ve done that just as much. She’s sly.”
“She is,” Shay said. “Sit down. Dinner is almost done.”
He pulled a stool away from the counter and sat, his father doing the same. He’d learned a long time ago to stay out of her way when she was in the kitchen. She did things the way she wanted and if you were in her path, she’d roll over you.
Sounded like his Aunt Jolene, and he was going to make that comment but decided it was best to keep it to himself.
“What are we having?” he asked. “It sure smells good in here.”
“Roasted chicken, twice baked potatoes.”
“With bacon and cheddar cheese?” he asked, knowing dealing with his aunt was worth it now.
“Is there any other way I make them?” she asked.
He watched as she pulled the large potatoes out of the microwave and cut them in half, then emptied them into the bowl where she added milk, butter, salt and pepper and beat them nice and fluffy then filled the skins back up before sprinkling cheese and bacon on top and popping them in the oven when the chicken came out to sit and set.
She pulled the plates down from the cabinet and handed them to him, so he took them and set the table like he always did. “I’m starving,” he said. “I always work up an appetite when I’m in the pub.”
“Did you pick up lunch there?” his father asked.
“No,” he said. “I ate something before I went there.”
“Why?” his mother asked. “Don’t tell me you’re too cheap to even buy lunch.”
“No,” he said. “I had things to do today. I didn’t want to sit around talking.”
Plus he had a feeling in his mind his aunt would be there so it was best to not be where she could come and sit next to him. He would have sat at the bar and kept his cousin Brody company, but it wasn’t worth it in his eyes.
His mother had been carving the chicken and stopped to pull the potatoes out of the oven and set them down to rest. “Ethan, get the vegetables out of the microwave, please.”
“I’ve got it,” Ivan said, moving to the other side of the kitchen out of her way. He opened the door and saw a bag of steamed broccoli and cauliflower in there with cheese sauce on it. This might not be a gourmet meal like Aiden or others could do for their family, but it was what he felt the most comfortable with in his life.
Everyone knew he was the least flashy or fancy person in the family.
He’d eat peanut butter and jelly for dinner over sandwich meat most times. Not that he wouldn’t splurge and get some on sale, but food was food to him.
He didn’t live to eat as much as he ate to live. He wasn’t wasteful either so he never bought more than he needed. He had a balance between having food in the house but not making too many trips to the store. If he could buy stuff in bulk, he did that too.
He had a stocked freezer of things that he could heat up. Food his mother made and gave him, stuff he’d made himself and froze half of it. He cooked when he wanted to. A few days a week, then ate it until it was gone or he was sick of it. If there was some left, it got frozen for another day.
Practical, not cheap.
“What did my sister do this time?” his mother asked when they were seated at the table ten minutes later.
“Her usual,” he said. “She told me I’m getting old and need to find someone to give you a grandchild before my swimmers all but dry up.”
His father started to choke on his food; his mother just rolled her eyes. They wouldn’t ask if his aunt actually said that; they knew she did.
“What was your response?”
“I asked if Devin and Hope had been avoiding her on a baby and it was time to come after me again.”
“That’s probably the truth,” his father said.
