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“That’s fine with me but another thing I wanted to tell you, if you want Zeppelin in at night, let's put him in the laundry room or something.” He walked around the couch heading towards the stairs.
She turned with his movement,“What? That’s so far, why can’t he sleep with us, he would be good protection.”
“I need alone time with you at some point. The closest I will allow will be the upstairs bathroom.”
“Fine.” She pouted looking down at him as he walked back up the stairs.
Chapter Thirty
June Twenty Fifth
Wolfgang
“Wolfie, there's somebody in the house.” June shook him terrified.
He moaned in the dark, “I don't hear anything.”
“There’s someone here!” She hissed in his ear.
Footsteps creaked up the stairs and Wolfie jolted out of bed, darted to the door and swung it open stopping in the doorframe of their room. A man pointing a gun in Wolfie’s direction stood halfway up the stairs. The man stopped in disbelief, staring at him, observing him, dissecting him in a quick moment and then questioned, “Brigham?”
Taken aback he replied and swallowed, “That's my dad.”
The man sighed in relief, lowering his weapon, “And Marilyn?” He asked.
“That's my mom.” Wolfie’s eyes had focused from the dark and recognized the man as he dropped his knee on the next step up and sighed in relief with his head down, pressing his pistol barrel into the floor.
He exhaled and holstered his gun. “I'm your Uncle, Patrick.” Nodding for Wolfie to come down stairs and join him.
“It’s fine, you can go back to bed,” he whispered into the room and closed the door.
Pat turned the kitchen light on, “So what’s your name kid?” He grabbed his keys and pressed them to the pantry door.
“Wolfgang.” He looked at the clock on the stove, six thirty.
He stopped and turned to him, “Wolfgang? Are you serious?”
“Yes, sir.” He found himself standing behind the island.
“She named you after our grandpa. Gee dub, we used to call him after Grandpa Wolfgang.” He knew he was named after his mothers grandfather, the rest of the family didn’t know that, they didn’t know he existed. The pantry door opened and was larger than he was expecting. It contained another fridge and shelves full of preserved food. Wolfie smiled at his great grandpa’s nickname. “And Amy?” He closed the internal fridge, pulling out eggs and bacon, dropping them on the counter. “You buy this?” Pat pointed to the coffee maker.
He nodded, “She lives with my mom. She moved in with her after my dad passed away at forty three from cancer.” Wolfie walked towards the machine to prepare a carafe.
Pat clicked his tongue, “That’s too bad, you look just like him. How many nieces and nephews do I got?”
“Only me. Amy never married and my parents struggled to have any others.”
“That’s a shame.” He placed the strips of bacon on a baking sheet. “How old are you?”
“Twenty nine.” Wolfie stood next to him to wash his hands.
“I got a twenty eight year old myself. Two girls, the other is thirty one.”
“My mom said you were married. That’s the last she knew.”
“Yep, Sylvia, been married for thirty three years. We found out we were expecting our first a month after Amy left. You got someone upstairs with you?” He dropped the oven door and placed the pan inside while Wolfie found a seat at the counter.
“Yes, that’s Juniper.”
