The Long and Winding Road (The Seafare Chronicles 4)

We froze.

She stirred one of the pots. It smelled like spaghetti sauce.

“Yeah,” Creed said loudly as he pulled out his phone. “Just look at the little flecks of crystal in the counter. Great, right?” He pointed at his phone, then pointed at me.

I frowned.

“Otter, can I get you anything to drink?” Anna asked. “You know, since your brother apparently doesn’t remember how take care of guests.”

“No, no,” Otter said hastily. “I’m good.”

“Hmm,” she said again but still didn’t turn around.

Creed jabbed his phone, then jabbed me.

Got it. I pulled out my phone, and he typed furiously.

ACT NORMAL SHE KNOWS EVERYTHING came through.

I squinted at him as I showed the message to Otter.

“Yeah,” Creed said loudly as he typed on his phone again. “We just wanted a different look for the kitchen, you know? Something that wasn’t granite. We thought—”

Anna coughed.

“Anna thought granite was a fad that’d go out of style soon, so we went with quartz.”

A new message: SHE’S LIKE SPIDERMAN. ALL HER SENSES ARE TINGLING. PREGNANCY MAKES YOU A SUPERHERO. OR A VILLAIN.

“Who are you texting?” Anna asked without turning around.

Creed started sweating. “No one, my queen. Light of my life.”

“Well, it must be someone. You are typing on your phone.”

Otter and I stared wide-eyed. Creed was right. She had superpowers.

“Just my parents, my flower. Wanting to make sure JJ was okay.”

“And is he?”

“Y-yes.”

“You don’t sound sure.”

“Yes. I’m so sure. He’s doing wonderful. They’re eating mashed potatoes right this second, and he’s not even trying to put it up his nose.”

“Interesting. Because I could have sworn Alice said they were going to order pizza. I wonder why they would be having mashed potatoes.”

“Did I say mashed potatoes? I meant pepperoni.”

“Hmm,” she said.

SEE? SHE KNOWS ALL. SHE HEARS ALL. I THINK THE BABY IS EVIL. OR AWESOME. I DON’T KNOW WHICH.

“Bear and I were thinking of redoing the kitchen at some point,” Otter said, staring at the curve of Anna’s stomach.

“Make sure you don’t ask Creed for advice,” Anna said. “Unless you want your house to look like crap.”