Trey sniffed, "I've eaten in restaurants around the world. My mom taught us to like anything since we traveled so much. She also said that healthy stuff would help us grow."
The boy's condescending glance ran the length of Daniel as if that inch missing from making him six feet tall might have been added with more squid and fewer Moon Pies.
Daniel laughed. The kid was snotty, but gutsy. Gutsy, he could work with. Trey would need that grit to carry him through the transition.
"No worries, kid." He passed the pack of Pop-Tarts to his brother. "We'll find someone to cook for you between restaurant visits. Even I know a growing boy can't live on Twinkies and Mountain Dew."
Trey offered another of his snooty sniffs and shuffled to the refrigerator while days of messages clicked through in the background. Daniel didn't bother shutting off the speakerphone since nothing classified would come through his home phone. And aside from Hannah's message, he didn't expect anything R-rated on his voice mail this time.
Reaching over his brother's head, Daniel pulled a can of orange juice from way back on the top rack, an unconsumed leftover from one of his flight lunches. "Here, kid, vitamin C."
"My dad left us lots of money, you know, for shopping and stuff."
Daniel mentally counted to ten. "Thanks, but I can afford a few groceries."
His brothers could keep their damned trust fund. He didn't want a penny of his father's money, and he'd told his old man the same when he'd walked out the door to attend the Air Force Academy. Now he could support the boys fine on his own until they turned twenty-one.
If Trey didn't off him first.
Daniel unhooked a coffee mug from under the cabinet. "You feeling okay today?"
There. That sounded vaguely parental. He paused the coffeemaker long enough to pour himself some much-needed java.
"I'm not a baby who can't tell you if I'm sick." Trey nibbled the edge of a Pop-Tart with a skeptical scowl.
"Okay. Okay." He'd let the doc handle that one. While Kathleen had given Trey the all's-fine yesterday, she still wanted both of the boys checked out by a pediatrician. After he shopped for bunk beds. And clothes. And food. Healthy food. Damn.
When the hell was he supposed to go to work? Thank God Mary Elise was with them for a while.
"Mary Elise doesn't want to stay here with us."
Had the kid taken up mind reading? Maybe Trey could figure the woman out. "No sh— Uh, no kidding."
Another thing to change about his life. His language. Just what he needed, Austin swaggering into preschool cursing like a crewdog.
Preschools? Double damn. What did he know about freaking kiddie day cares?
"Hello, Daniel." The deep bass rumbled from the speakerphone. His father's voice.
Shock sucker punched Daniel. His lungs constricted, tight. For a surreal moment he wondered if the past days had been a sick game. His father would come pick up Trey and Austin. Life would go back to normal.
Except for Mary Elise.
Trey's gasp slammed him back to the present. Daniel's gaze locked with his brother's saucer-wide eyes staring back from a pale face as they listened to the voice of the one man who joined them.
And it wasn't a dream or game. The message was more than two weeks old. Daniel listened to the words, the voice, couldn't make himself shut down this last link to a father he hadn't been connected to in years.
"Son, call back as soon as you receive this message. We need to talk about…" He cleared his throat.
Mary Elise? She had said his father arranged the job for her. How long had she been there? Maybe she'd only just arrived.
But why would his dad play Cupid when father-son chitchats were pretty much nothing more than a biannual affair? At best.
Daniel shook free the questions and, for his young brother's sake, reached to lower the volume. Trey sidled closer to the machine, his eyes glinting with a willfulness Daniel recognized well from the mirror.
Their father's voice continued to swell into the room. "I don't want to go into details over an answering machine. It would be better if you placed the call from the base on a secure line."
The message clicked to an end. Trey shifted from his guard post to let Daniel jam the off button.