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I caught her with a laugh. “You feeling any better, princess? Grandma made spaghetti and meatballs just for you. What do you think? Want to meet her? And eat some yummy food?”
Zoe nodded against my body.
“Are you gonna share your yummy food with Daddy?”
Zoe leaned back to scowl up at me. “No. Daddy eat it all. Getti for me.”
Briar laughed with me, and when I looked over at her I saw the sheen glowing in her eyes like she was fighting back tears. “Will you share your getti with me?”
Zoe squinted then finally nodded. “You can have some.”
Briar laughed harder as a tear trailed down her cheek. “Thank you, Zoe.”
“I guess we all know who she loves the most,” I murmured with a smile as I pulled out my phone and texted my mom.
Me:We’re here and hungry. Come on over.
“I love you, Daddy!” Zoe wailed. Her lower lip quivered. “You have getti too.”
“I’m just teasing you, Zo-Zo.” I leaned down and kissed her wet cheek. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t funny, huh?”
Zoe’s breath hitched as she squinted at me, then she shook her head mutinously. “Mean.”
“Sorry, princess.” I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing. She looked so damned cute when she was pissed.
“Kingston!” My mom shouted from the back door. “Is she here? Where’s Zoe?”
Zoe’s eyes widened and her shoulders hunched. She leaned into me, hiding in my chest again.
“Dial it back a bit, Mom. She just woke up.” I stood, holding Zoe in my arms again as she burrowed into my neck. “How about we get dinner on the table?”
“Sounds good.” Nix walked through the backdoor, scratching the back of his head. “I’m starving. It smells awesome, Ma.”
“Can I help at all, Missus…” Briar made a face as she realized her faux pas. “Um, I’m sorry. I didn’t get your last name, ma’am.”
“It’s Hill, but you can call me Joyce.” Mom smiled back at Briar as she placed the huge pot onto my stovetop. “How about you get some water boiling for the noodles? And I’ll get the sauce going here then whip up a quick garlic bread. Nix, you make the salad.”
“I’m a guest. Why do I have to make anything?” Nix whined in that annoying tone I remembered so well from our childhood. “Shouldn’t King be doing something?”
“He is.” Mom raised an eyebrow. “He’s taking care of my one and only grandchildaftera long day at work. What have you done lately?”
Nix knew better than to answer that question. He huffed an annoyed breath and stomped over to the fridge to grab salad fixings.
I walked over to the island and pulled out a stool for me and Zoe to sit and watch. The three of them worked in compatible silence. Mom kept sneaking glances at Zoe. I could tell it was killing her not to be holding her granddaughter, but she listened to me, waiting for Zoe to relax.
And she was. Zoe wasn’t holding as tightly to my shirt. But her eyes weren’t on her grandmother. My daughter was watching Briar intently as she moved around the kitchen. After a few minutes, she held her arms out to Briar and whined.
“Up, Bwi-are?”
Briar crossed the kitchen and nuzzled the top of Zoe’s head. “Sorry, peanut. You can’t help with this part. It’s dangerous work. How about you and Daddy set the table?”
“No. Want Bwi-are.” Zoe scowled.
And I really tried not to take it personally. “Too bad, munchkin.” I stood up with Zoe on my hip and ran a familiar hand over Briar’s back in thanks. “You got Daddy instead. Come on. Where do we keep the forks again?”
“There!” Zoe pointed, grinning with the importance of our new job.
Nix smirked as we walked by, and judging by my mom’s raised eyebrows, I’d missed something. I turned to shoot Briar a confused look, but she was studiously stirring the boiling noodles. The steam had turned her cheeks a slight pink. The same color she got after we took a long, hot shower together.
