Etching Our Way (Broken Tracks 1)

“Erm… no I didn’t,” I say, trying to backtrack. “I… I erm... I said, shoot.”

“Uh uh, you said shit.”

“Izzie!”

She flutters her eyelashes, the long strands batting like the wings of a butterfly as she smiles innocently.

“Never mind,” I say, scrubbing my hands down my face. “Nana and Edward will be here in thirty minutes, let’s get moving.” I clap my hands together and walk back to my bedroom.

I jump into the shower quickly, washing my hair and body and then getting out, throwing on some dark blue jeans and a white t-shirt before putting some socks on and shoving my feet into my combat boots.

I grab my dark brown leather jacket out of my walk-in closet, pushing my arms through the sleeves before heading back to the kids’ rooms.

“Clay? Izzie?”

“One minute!” Clay shouts back.

I push open Izzie’s door, looking left and right but not seeing her. I step back when I hear an annoyed huff and smirk.

“Izzie?” I call again, heading to her closet where she stands inside, looking up at all of her dresses.

“I have nothing to wear!” She spins around, her brows forming a deep v on her forehead.

I step into the closet with her, pushing several dresses aside and picking out three.

“Here,” I say, stepping back and placing them on the bed. “Pick between these.”

She looks at the dresses on the bed, her face serious as she tries to pick the best one. “What do you think, Daddy?”

“I think you’d look pretty in all of them, pumpkin. But I love the green one.” I smile at her and I’m rewarded with the same smile that used to grace Natalia’s face. The sight of it has my breath catching in my throat. She would have loved to have seen their art show, witnessing what they’ve created.

I shake my head and walk out of her room, turning back when I get to the door. “Five minutes, Izzie. Amelia still has to do your hair, be quick.”

She doesn’t acknowledge me so I make my way down the stairs, the door flying open as I hit the last step.

“Grandbabies!” Mom shouts, making me wince as her voice echoes off the walls. “Are we all ready?”

“Dad’s making us late,” Clay says as he comes out of the kitchen. “He was working.”

Guilt floods me at the look on his face and the sound of his voice. I try my hardest not to work on weekends, but sometimes I have no choice.

Mom looks up at me, a smirk on her face as Edward comes in behind her, dressed in jeans and a shirt. It takes me a minute to adjust to what he’s wearing; I’m so used to seeing him in his suit that he always wears when driving us.

“Edward.” I nod and walk forward. “Mom.” I kiss her on the cheek before turning around and heading into the kitchen.

“Nana brought muffins,” she announces.

Izzie’s squeal comes before we see her and then she’s running down the stairs and toward Edward who holds a box in his hands.

“Did you get blueberry? They’re my favorite!”

“I sure did, munchkin,” Mom says, crouching down and wrapping her arms around her before pulling away and putting her arm around Clay’s shoulders, pulling him toward the kitchen.

I follow them and head for the coffee pot, switching it on and waiting for it to brew as Mom hands out the muffins.

“What time do we need to leave, Tristan?” she asks, coming to stand in front of me as I lift the pot and pour three cups.

“Ten minutes,” I reply once I’ve checked the time on my watch.