“I can’t decide if that’s romantic or mean.”
He barked out a laugh and then said, “Let’s go back into the kitchen and make sure Viera hasn’t killed Stu.”
“Oh, she already did.”
He opened the door. “The hell?”
“Swear jar,” Ben said in a bored voice as he walked by us with his iPad and headphones on.
“How did he even hear me?”
“She killed him in the picture she drew. I think I’m dead too. I can’t tell, but x’s over my eyes can’t be a good sign, right?”
Rip grinned. “Yeah, probably not, since that’s what the dead emoji looks like.”
“Awesome.” I took him over to the fridge. It was halfway covered with projects we’d been working on together as a distraction for the kids. They loved slime and they loved coloring. Ergo we had buckets of slime and scores of colorful crayons.
“What am I?” he whispered. “A vampire?”
“Uncle Rip, do yous love it?” Viera hopped off her chair and bounced over to us. “And can I know the secret?”
“Yes.” Rip picked her up and kissed her on the head. “You’re a great colorer.”
She laughed and wrapped her little arms around his neck. “Duh, I know!”
“Humble too,” I added.
“Yup.” He looked over at me, his grin slowly falling from his face and something more intense passing over it.
He felt it too, didn’t he?
The rightness of us in that moment, not just together in the kitchen, but together with the kids.
Well done, Monica. Even in her death she was still trying to matchmake me with her brother. And it was working. It was perfect. It was everything I’d ever wanted, I just hoped he felt the same way.
“I’m starving!” Ben moped into the kitchen and pulled out a chair. “Are we ordering pizza?”
“Nope.” I went over to the chili and turned the burner back on to warm it. “I cooked!”
The kitchen went silent.
Rip set Viera down and then felt my forehead, earning a glare from me and a giggle from both kids.
I stuck out my tongue at Rip, only to have his eyes flash as he leaned in and whispered, “So inappropriate in front of the children, tsk-tsk.”
I quickly grabbed a kitchen towel and started wrapping it in the air to create a whip.
“Run.” I whipped it through the air.
He gulped and slowly started backing away and managed to find a towel of his own. “You sure you wanna do this?”
“Fight, fight, fight!” Ben started chanting. Viera joined in. Stu just sighed and probably pondered pooping outside his litter box. Yay me.
Rip moved to one end of the counter while I ran to the other end, ready to attack. We went in circles as the kids yelled, and then I bolted toward him, snapping the towel.
“Damn it!” he yelled.
“Swear jar!” the kids said in unison, and then Ben added, “I’m gonna be able to get my Bugatti soon!”