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“Aunt Beamer, I don’t feel good,” Cecily said, and it was only then Bryce noticed that her eight-year-old niece was practically green—a shade that matched her camouflage-patterned dress.
Bryce put a hand to Cecily’s forehead. No fever. That likely meant the stomach upset was due to bad food choices—a common theme when the girls were allowed to graze freely in their grandparents’ care.
“Oh, Cici. What did you eat? I told you not to eat junk.”
Bryce sat Cecily in a chair and headed to her purse, but the tube of Tums wasn’t in there.
Cecily lay her head on the table. “It wasn’t junk. I had two peanut-butter-and-jelly doughnuts, an’ I had fruit to be healthy.”
June snorted. “You had an apple fritter. That doesn’t count as fruit, wise lass.”
“June Shelby Weatherford.” Adele’s voice was shocked. “Language!”
“It’s not a swear. It’s pirate,” June shot back, looking at Bryce for backup.
But it took all Bryce’s effort to keep her mouth shut and not jump down the Paynes’ throats. It was like her nieces’ grandparents refused to set any boundaries on purpose—so the girls would choose them as guardians when the time came.
She looked at her oldest niece, who stood in her chunky black boots, black socks slouched down over her skinny bare legs under a black T-shirt dress that was two sizes bigger than she was, and gave her an apologetic look. “June, can you run upstairs and get the Tums? They’re in the medicine cabinet on the top shelf.”
June rolled her eyes. “Fine. Can I get my phone, Pop-Pop?”
“We had to take her phone because she was using it. At church.” Harvey’s tone was scandalized as he handed over the device, implying June’s phone obsession was somehow Bryce’s fault.
Bryce bit back a defensive reply.
It was Easter. She wouldn’t let Adele and Harvey goad her. Besides, they looked frazzled. Adele’s butter-yellow sheath dress had a gray smudge smack-dab in the middle of her right breast in a shape that looked suspiciously like a shoe print, and Harvey’s matching shirt had a smear of chocolate—at least she hoped it was chocolate—on the collar.
Catching her stare, Adele swiped at her chest. “Addison decided to twirl. While sitting in my lap.”
“Only, I got stuck halfway and had to push off,” Addison explained, flitting over to grab Adele’s hands. “Don’t be mad anymore, Nana. Aunt Beamer has a magic pen that makes everything come off.”
“Tide stick,” Bryce explained at Adele’s confused expression. “Addie, come blow bubbles with me.”
Addison sprinted over, clapping. Even Cecily dragged her head off the table to take a bubble wand, blowing through it listlessly as her sister rushed to pop the bubbles before they hit the floor.
“Ooh, look at the pretty bubbles, Elise.” Kate brought her daughter over to try to grab one out of the air. Drake picked up a bubble container, nudging his black-framed glasses up his nose to help blow bubbles for the girls.
Bryce was thankful for her new friends and their subtle efforts to defuse tension. The knot in her stomach eased as the girls giggled. Cecily perked up as Drake managed to create giant bubbles, and both girls dashed over to help blow air under one to keep it aloft until Elise’s chubby hands smashed through it. The day was starting to turn around, and Bryce was thinking about checking on the eggs when Adele spoke.
“Bryce, we need to talk about your behavior management techniques, because I cannot believe how badly these girls acted. I had to remind Cecily four times to stop running, Addison twirls everywhere she goes, and only June uses an indoor voice.” Adele looked at her husband. “The only time they sat was when they ate. Harvey and I know how restrictive your diet is for the girls, so we let them choose their brunch and they enjoyed having baked goods as a treat. Cecily probably just has a bug.”
Anger bubbled inside of Bryce until her face felt scalded. Seeing Kate shift nervously, Bryce forced herself to take a box breath before answering—four counts in, hold for four, then four counts out.
“I am not restrictive.” Bryce chose her words carefully. “I simply don’t offer junk food and processed garbage as the first option at every freaking meal.”
Her tone rose at the end and she struggled to ratchet down her anger, but it was like a kitchen fire, hot and blazing from the pan, igniting the spilled grease of her words.
“Now listen, Bryce,” Harvey said, but she was over listening. Both girls stopped chasing bubbles as their aunt’s voice rang out loud and full in the restaurant’s dining room.
“Cecily doesnothave a bug, and neither did Addison when she threw up after she ate too much chocolate pudding for dessert underyourwatch.”
Adele’s cheeks bloomed with circular rose-colored spots.
“Don’t tell us how to parent these children. You can’t even keep them in shoes and clothing that fits, and almost nothing in their closets is appropriate for church—”
“Let’s talk about church—the only place you take your grandkids, because they have built-in babysitters,” Bryce spat, and a small part of her brain told her to stop now, stop before she went too far, stop at least until it could be a more private conversation. But her frustration and anger boiled over and no lid in the world was strong enough to contain it. “How will you manage while I’m in Niagara Falls working all week, with no school, church, or childcare to do the work while you sit on your—”
The front door flew open, and a woman holding a massive stack of pink boxes entered.
