“Decorate this one.” The idea of them moving out of the main house so soon made me uneasy. They would still be fine and safe, but I would miss them. “Let’s. . .have you move into the other house after Christmas. It should be done by then. There won’t be a lot of repairs, but. . .I want to make sure everything is good.”
It wasn’t all a lie. They would still need furniture and I would’ve liked a fresh coat of paint in each room. The plumbing had to be tested as well as the heating. If I rushed it all, they could be in the house by the end of next week. But I didn’t want them to rush away. And I damn sure didn’t want them to move just yet.
“Do you celebrate Christmas?” Ebony asked.
“My family didn’t do it as much as my friends. We didn’t have a tree, but we did exchange presents. My mother would do a big dinner.”
“I could do one too.”
“That would be nice.” I scanned the space, trying to imagine it lit up with festive lights and decorations. “We won’t use that plastic tree. I’ll throw that away. We can go in the woods and find a nice one.”
“Hmmm.” She shrugged. “We could.”
“This is Washington—the Evergreen state. We have Christmas trees all around us.” I nodded. “We’ll find a nice one. Big and full.”
“Love that idea.” She began plating the eggs. “We never get to celebrate the holidays like I want. There’s been few times when we’ve even been in the same place more than a month.”
“That’ll change now.”
“I hope so.”
“It will.” I hoped she caught the certainty in my voice. “Everything will be different.”
“So. . .you never told me how much you wanted to charge for rent.” She laughed. “I’m over here making plans to move in, and I may not be able to afford it.”
“What can you afford?”
“No, we’re not going to do that. Give me a good price. Something that’s fair to you too.”
“Let me think about it.” I brought the plates that she’d finished over to the table. “But keep in mind that I don’t need the money. It would just be a gesture.”
“I don’t like milking off people.”
The kids rushed in, ending our discussion. Well-disciplined, they took off their shoes and hung up their coats. Kia rushed to get an old towel and dried the dogs off. And then all of them washed their hands. Ebony had them working together like a perfect machine. None of them needed to be told anything more than once. All of them were respectful and considerate.
What kind of man would bring terror into these kids’ hearts? One that wasn’t a man.
I sat down at the end of the table and wondered if the kids blamed themselves for their father’s abuse of their mom.
When I was kid, I always thought it was my fault for my father’s abuse. I tried to clean up my stuff and help my mother all the time. That cleaning habit remained with me to this day. Even now, it made me anxious to see a spot or dust somewhere as if my father would rise from his grave, storm in, and slap my mother.
I looked at Poppy as she shoveled eggs into her little mouth. I remembered being quiet too. Whenever Dad came home, I kept my mouth shut. I moved as silently as possible, tip-toed even. Not wanting to agitate my father or overburden my mother.
Is that why she stopped speaking? Does she feel safe enough to speak more now?
I smiled at her. “How are the eggs, Poppy?”
She grinned. “Yummy.”
Another new word.
Ebony dropped the spatula on the floor, cursed under her breath, picked it up, and washed. The whole time she watched Poppy, hope blazed in her eyes.
See. This place is good for them. Don’t you ever think about running? You’re safe here with me. They’re safe her too. I won’t let anything happen to them.
I checked Kia. She hadn’t even touched her food. Instead, she monitored her mother. “Have you ate yet, Mom?”
“I’m about to sit down.” Ebony brought her plate over.
Finally, Kia decided to eat, ripping into the bacon first. She chewed and groaned in delight.
I buttered my toast and turned to Jalen.
He had a thick book open.
I raised my brows. “What are you reading, Jalen?”
He looked up. His face brightened as if he’d been waiting forever for someone to ask him that question. “I’m reading book four of the best series in the entire world as we know it.”
“Wow. That’s some recommendation.”
“The title is Smoking Metal. The hero Striker is an assassin.” Jalen leaned over and lowered his voice like the information was top secret. “Striker gets paid to kill people and works for a mysterious man who gives him the commissions.”
I chuckled. “Now, that may be something I would love to read.”