I led the two of them to the house while Alan and George got to work releasing the SUV. Hazel was rummaging around in the soggy interior, the occasional grumble freeing from its confines. My lips twitched. I had little doubt she’d be giving her husband hell about this.
Once inside my home, I pointed in the direction of the main bathroom. “Second door on the right.”
“Thanks.” Nick smiled again and rushed his boy to the bathroom.
While they sorted themselves out, I filled up the kettle and turned it on to make tea, then quickly checked in the nicer spare room—the “green” room that my brother regularly grumbled about remained unpainted. He hadn’t been exaggerating about the colour either. It was legit an eyesore, but it had become a bit of a joke over the years, and I was reluctant to paint it just to get a rise out of Craig.
The bed was made, sheets clean, and I turned on the air conditioning unit. I wasn’t sure how long we’d have power for, but I’d make the most of it. While I was on a different grid than the south side of town, I did expect to lose power at some point.
The heavy thudding of feet had me turning to see Murphy racing along the hallway. He stopped before me in the kitchen.
“You all done?”
He bobbed his head. “Yep. My poop was big.”
I chuckled loudly and flicked my attention to Nick when his mortified groan clued me in to him joining us.
“Sorry about Murphy. He likes to overshare.”
“Big poops are sometimes worthy of conversation, aren’t they, Murphy?”
His nod was big and overexaggerated. “I has nuthink in my tummy now,” he said to me all wide-eyed and looking super cute. “Daddy, I’s hungry.”
“We’ll be heading home soon, so you can get something then.”
Murphy pouted, his bottom lip sticking out impressively.
“There’s fruit in the bowl,” I offered, my focus on Nick. “There’s also crackers in the pantry.”
Murphy eyed the bowl of fruit. “Can I have narna, Daddy?”
Nick’s brows tugged together. “You sure that’s okay?”
“Of course,” I answered.
I could do this. The buffer of a kid made this so much more manageable.
“Thanks,” he said and looked down at his son who peered up at him with all the innocence such a small child could. “You can getone,” he emphasised. “And mind your manners.”
Murphy bobbed up and down, looking far too excited at the prospect of eating a banana, but who was I to judge the kid? Swap that with a Magnum ice cream and I’d be bouncing around too.
His short legs ate up the distance from his dad to the fruit bowl. Once there, he hemmed and hawed, making a selection.
I chuckled and risked a glance at Nick. His focus was solely on his son, nothing but love and patience evident. When he flicked his attention to me, a warm smile remained on his lips, and probably for the first time ever, I saw the “handsome” in the guy previously shadowed by the ugly of his spite.
“How old’s Murphy?” I asked, curiosity encouraging me to continue softening the animosity around us.
“Four next month.”
And then my words dried up. I had nothing to follow up with. I was saved from the growing awkwardness by a triumphant “This one!” Murphy’s smile was huge as he held it high in the air like a warrior sword. Then, without more prompting from his dad, he peered up at me. “Thank you for the narna.”
“You’re welcome. Shall we head back out and see what’s going on?”
“’K.” In a handful of strides, Murphy surprised the hell out of me when he reached my side and latched onto my hand.
Concerned, I shot Nick a look, but he watched on, offering a light shrug, and started heading out the door. Alrighty then, it seemed like I had a new mate.
“Do you need help peeling the banana?” I asked as we stepped back out into the sunshine.
