“This is Rebel,” Molly said, leaning even harder against me. “Can you say hi, Reb?”
Rebel shook her head once, making me chuckle.
“That’s alright,” Dad said softly. “Get to know each other first, yeah?”
As he was talking to Rebel, I heard someone on the stairs and turned to see Lily and Rose sliding down the carpeted stairway on their asses.
“Hey, Rebel!” Rose called out as she stood up, unconsciously dropping her arm down to guide Lily toward us.
“Hey, girls,” Molly called out. “Look, Rebel. Your friends are here.”
Reb’s head popped up and she started kicking her legs in excitement, pushing at Molly’s chest with both hands.
“You can’t get down yet, boo,” Molly told her firmly, shifting Rebel in her arms.
“Dinner’s on the table, should we head that way?” Mom asked, diverting Rebel’s attention.
“Come on, baby,” I said softly in Molly’s ear as I pushed her forward to follow my parents toward the kitchen. “That wasn’t so bad, right?”
“Your dad’s huge,” she whispered back over her shoulder.
“I’m not real small.”
“But you’re not scary.”
“Depends on who you ask,” I mumbled as we reached the kitchen.
Tommy was already sitting in his seat, doing something on his phone. Dad was forcing Mom to sit down while he grabbed drinks out of the fridge, and the little girls were messing with Lily’s place settings—probably so she’d know exactly where everything was.
“Where’d this come from?” I asked Mom as I pulled out a seat for Molly next to a gray and blue high chair. I was glad as fuck that my mom had thought of it, because it hadn’t even crossed my mind.
“Trix let me borrow it for tonight,” Mom said happily.
“Thank you,” Molly said, setting Rebel in the chair. “And thank Trix for me.”
“I will.”
“Molly, this is my brother, Tommy.”
“Whoa—I remember when you were a baby,” Molly said as she sat down in her chair. “It’s good to see you again.”
“Yep,” Tommy replied dismissively.
I wanted to rip the little fucker’s head off.
“Thomas Asa Hawthorne,” my mom growled, snatching Tom’s phone out of his hand.
“What’s goin’ on?” my dad asked as he came back from across the room.
“Your son just got grounded off his phone for the rest of the night,” Mom said, taking her glass of water from Dad.
“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” Tommy blurted, eyes wide.
Dad reached down quickly, grabbing Tommy by the scruff of the neck. “You think you’re big enough to take me on?” he asked menacingly, not even bothering to set the sodas in his other hand down.
“No,” Tommy rasped, swallowing hard.
“Then I better never hear you talkin’ to my wife like that again.”
The little girls were still talking quietly to each other, but Rebel was completely motionless, staring at my dad with wide eyes. I glanced toward Molly and found her staring at her lap, where her fingers twisted nervously.
“It’s all good, sugar,” I said softly, reaching over to rub her back.
“I don’t—” she looked over to me, but just as quickly looked at Rebel, who was kicking the footrest of the high chair hard while her entire body arched against the tray at her belly.
“Rebel,” Molly called soothingly, shooting to her feet. “What’s wrong?” She pulled Rebel out of the seat and the baby wrapped her arms around Molly’s neck like a vice.
“I’m so sorry,” Molly said sheepishly, glancing around the table. She tried to put Rebel back in her seat, but it wasn’t happening, so she finally just sat back down next to me with Rebel on her lap.
She sat there trying to soothe Rebel as the rest of the table started dishing up their plates and Dad finished handing out drinks.
“Where you want it, Lily?” he asked quietly, waiting for Lily to point at an empty place on the table. “Alright. Straw’s by your left elbow.”
He handed me a couple of sodas, then finally sat down himself.
“You want mashed potatoes?” I asked Molly as they got to me.
“A little, please,” she whispered back. “Do you know if your mom puts milk in them?”
“Uh.” I looked down at the potatoes. How the fuck was I supposed to know? “Hey, Ma? You put milk in these?”
“What?”
“In the potatoes.”
“Yeah—it’s Gram’s recipe.”
Molly was glaring at me when I looked back down at her. Was I not supposed to ask?
“No potatoes for us, then,” she said so quietly I almost couldn’t hear her.
She took some steamed carrots and roast, thanking me for each one.
Jesus, the table was practically silent as we all dug in. The little girls giggled every once in a while, but none of the adults said a word as we ate. It was awkward as fuck, and I started sweating again.
“Reb, you want some carrots?” Molly asked, lifting a tiny piece of steamed carrot to Rebel’s mouth. She opened it like a little baby bird and snatched up the carrot quickly, making me chuckle.