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Without waiting, I storm away towards my bedroom. I fling open the door and my mouth drops open in horror at the scene that lies before me.
I should never have agreed to this.
Ava is sitting on the floor next to my walk-in wardrobe grinning merrily away as she scrawls great black circles on the wall. The white walls. How did she even get hold of a pen? And not just any pen, but a thick marker that’s going to be impossible to clean up.
And to top things off, through the open door of my bathroom, not only can I see all the lights turned on in there but also Noah kneeling up by the sink while Chloe shears great chunks of hishair off with my nail scissors. Those are expensive and if they’re blunt now I swear I’m going to put all three of them on an airplane and ship them off to wherever my brother is now.
“What do you all think you’re doing?!” I yell.
At once, Ava burst into tears, enormous wails that seem totally disproportionate to the situation. You’d think I just threatened to drop her off a cliff instead of mildly telling her off for ruining my stuff.
Sophie bursts in behind me, gasping in horror at the scene. It’s a relief to see that she finds this just as outrageous as I do.
But then she turns on me, her eyes blazing with a kind of fury I’ve never seen from her before. “Why are you yelling?” she snaps before rushing over to Ava, pulling the child into her arms. She glares at me. “What is wrong with you?”
I do an approximate impression of a goldfish. Nobody speaks to me like that. Doesn’t she know who I am?
Stupid question. Of course she does. She knows too much about me, if anything. And yet she still has the nerve to question me like this?
“My wall!” I say, which, I grant you, is not my most eloquent defense.
Sophie doesn’t respond to that, instead choosing to hold Ava close to her chest, shushing her and dabbing gently at her eyes. “It’s okay,” she says gently. “He didn’t really mean it.”
“I did!” I snap, which gets rewarded with another glare.
While looking at me, Sophie says, “Uncle Lucas is just grumpy because he missed a big meeting today that he should havebeen there for.” So that’s what this is really about. It’s got nothing to do with the children; it’s all about punishing me just for forgetting about the meeting. Who cares? We’ve had bigger meetings than this one, and besides, it’s not like Sophie couldn’t do it herself. Surely she knows I trust her to do anything.
Ava sniffles loudly but at least she stops crying. Sophie wrestles the pen out of her tight grip. The thing is shining with slobber and snot, and I wonder how she can bear to touch it at all. “Will you show me where you got this from?”
“It was me,” says Chloe, her own eyes shining with tears. Sophie reaches out a hand to her in a sickening show of sympathy.
“It’s okay, honey,” she says, even though it definitely isn’t okay. “Where did you find this pen?”
Chloe points towards the bathroom. “We found it with the scissors,” Noah sticks his head around the bathroom door, nodding in silent, shameful agreement. His hair is an absolute mess with chunks taken out of the back and his bangs uneven and choppy. Ugh, we’re so going to have to take him to a hairdresser.
“Okay,” says Sophie, still managing to not look angry. “And why did we think this was a good idea?” Despite it being an accusatory question, she still sounds gentle, like she’s not telling him off. “I know we’re all good enough to know that we shouldn’t do things like this. What’s the matter?”
“We miss Mommy and Daddy,” mumbles Noah.
“We don’t like it here,” pouts Chloe.
“Go home,” babbles Ava, folding her arms in agreement with the other two, somehow managing to spread ink on herself despite not holding the pen.
Sophie glances back at me again and then invites all the children into a hug. It’s a move I don’t understand at all. This whole time I’ve been standing here frozen, trying to figure out how I can make these children stop hating me. Sophie takes a deep breath, the first sign that she is flustered by this just as much as I am.
“I tell you what,” she says to the children. “Let’s ask Uncle Lucas where the cleaning cupboard is so we can see what we can find in there to help us tidy up our mess, okay?”
The children nod in hesitant agreement, glancing up at me as if they’re expecting me to yell at them some more. I draw my mouth into a tight line. There’s no way I’m getting out of this without looking like a villain. It also takes me a moment to remember where the hell a cleaning cupboard is or if I even have one, because cleaning is certainly not something I do. It’s what I hire staff for. I’m pretty sure Yolanda keeps that sort of stuff in the kitchen, though — maybe under the sink?
“I believe all that… stuff is in the kitchen.” It’s taking an effort to remember not to swear as well. Who even invented the rule that you shouldn’t curse around children? They’re gonna grow up and start doing it anyway.
Slowly, Sophie rises to her feet holding out both hands for all three children to take. Somehow, all their hands manage to fuse together, and I wonder how Sophie doesn’t flinch at the sticky, saliva-covered mess that she’ll be touching. She’s so brave. It’s making me look like a coward.
We all head back into the kitchen. Lo and behold there actually are cleaning supplies in the kitchen — lots of them. Sophie grabs a dustpan and brush, some wet wipes, and some wall-cleaning stuff. I don’t even think I knew that wall-cleaning stuffexisted.
Sophie hands the brush to Noah and the spray to Chloe, deciding not to give anything to Ava. Instead she just offers the toddler her hand, which Ava takes. She hands me the wet wipes and rolls her eyes when I look at them in disdain. “Come on, Uncle Lucas. You can help too.”
She turns away before I can give her a look.
