“It’s going to be a boring grownup party, Valerie,” Jake replied, squatting down in front of them, blocking their cartoons. “You both have to be quiet here, remember?”
The girls nodded.
“If you aren’t quiet, I’m going to turn off the cartoons for half an hour.”
“Noooo,” Valerie said.
“Then no more stampeding around the house with those tiny, tiny feet.” Jake tickled her soles.
Valerie’s protests turned into giggles.
“Vivian?”
The older girl nodded.
“Good. It’s just for another week. I know it’s hard, but we have to try, okay?”
Solemn nods answered him.
Jake led Lila back into the kitchen. She’d rarely been in a workborn dwelling, and the warmness and wornness of the spaces always surprised her. The counter had been scratched and dented as if it had been the casualty of many family dinners. Children’s drawings had been framed and tacked to the walls, rather than art. Instead of a footman, someone had hung a little coat rack, all pegs full. The girls’ brightly colored schoolbooks had been piled underneath.
Jake stood in front of the stove himself, rather than a workborn.
It all seemed so very odd and messy.
“I’m making extra for you and your friends.”
Tristan cocked his head. “You’re cooking us breakfast?”
“I figured it would confuse you, and I knew your confusion would amuse me.” Jake stirred a mash of eggs and vegetables in a skillet. The spatula scraped against the pot.
“Can I have ice cream?” came a tiny voice behind them.
Jake didn’t even turn around. “What did I say yesterday?”
“That I won’t get tall if I eat ice cream. I don’t want to be tall. I want ice cream.”
Vivian strolled in behind Valerie and gave a long eye roll. “You can’t eat ice cream for breakfast. You have to eat normal things, like eggs and waffles and stuff.” Both girls had the same accent as Jake, the same rolling Rs and short vowels.
“My mother let me—”
“No, she didn’t—”
“Did too—”
Jake winced at their raised voices. “Cartoons. Living room. Now. Unless you want me to turn them off? I need to talk with our new friends. Remember?”
Vivian’s eyes flashed, and she looked the group up and down, her senses on alert. Lila knew she’d been prepped for their arrival.
Lila didn’t like it one bit.
Valerie demanded a hug from Jake before she’d go, then left to watch cartoons once more, ice cream tantrum averted.
As soon as the girls moved out of the room, Jake held his hands behind his back as though preparing to be arrested. “You’re still suspicious. I’ll let you cuff me if you’d feel safer. Just don’t let the girls see—”
Lila pulled out a DNA pen from her pocket and jabbed him in the neck. He cursed and whipped around. The needle jerked. A little trickle of blood ran down his neck.
“If you hadn’t moved, you wouldn’t have bled.”