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“You’re both dirty liars,” Hunter said, walking into the room. He had his slacks and a white shirt on, but the shirt was open, and he wasn’t wearing socks. His wet hair dripped down his face as he came further into the room.
“Forgot where the towels are?” Jericho asked, smirking at him.
“That’s sugar,” Hunter said instead of responding to the question.
“What is?” Jericho asked.
“What you’re eating.” Hunter pointed at his bowl, and Jericho glanced down at it. It was mostly just floating, soggy pieces of cereal now. “It’s just sugar.”
“I think it has other ingredients.” Something made it crackle, and it wasn’t the sugar.
Hunter shook his head. “Did you pack your bag, Olivia?”
“Yes,” she said. She was disinterested in the conversation, instead choosing to slowly press the keys down in a random pattern that wasn’t any song Jericho had ever heard.
“And your reader?”
“Yes.”
Jericho and Hunter shared a look. They’d have to check before they left the house because a continuous flow of “yes” coming from her mouth always meant she wasn’t listening.
Hunter took the bowl and spoon from Jericho, smacking him on the top of the head once with the spoon before continuing to the kitchen counter.
Jericho discreetly flipped Hunter off—he’d done it once where Olivia could see and they werestilltrying to break her of the habit of doing it in the supermarket to old ladies as some bizarre form of greeting. Explaining that Jericho hadn’t been “waving” to Hunter hadn’t dissuaded her. She still thought it was a way to say hello.
“Why don’t we play one song together before school?” Jericho said. He rubbed his hair, making sure no milk had gotten in it. He pulled off the band around his wrist and used it to put his hair up in a messy half bun. “Have you been practising while I was gone?”
She beamed at him. “Yes! Every day after school.”
“Good girl. Do you…”—he played a few of the first keys to Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy”—“remember this one?”
She played the next few notes in the song. She hesitated on one but eventually settled on the right one after a moment of intense concentration.
“Very good. What about this?”
They finished the song with relative ease, and Olivia beamed up at him. He tweaked her nose.
“Vee, we still have half an hour before it’s time to go; can you go play in your room until then? Your uncle and I need to have an adult discussion.”
“I’m an adult.”
“I think you have more than a few years before that,” Hunter replied.
Olivia slipped off Jericho’s lap and put her small hands on her hips. “How many?” she asked.
Hunter paused, looking up from where he was scrolling on his phone at the kitchen counter. “Fifteen,” he said after a second.
Olivia lifted her fingers and started to count until she reached ten and started over. She kept going until she reached the right number before dropping her hands with another exaggerated sigh. “That’s too many!”
“Have you brushed your teeth?”
“Dad,” Olivia whined.
Hunter wasn’t swayed. “Teeth, please, then find your shoes, and we’ll come and get you when it’s time to go.”
Jericho waited until her exaggerated elephant footsteps had faded up the hallway before turning and straddling the piano bench. “You heard from Six this morning?”
“Yes. Coffee?”
