I restrain the urge to spit sparks but only just barely.
“We’ll have to put up with it then,” I say, as if I have no opinions on the matter at all.
“He’s Mike’s brother, you know.”
“Who?”
“Austin Cavendish.”
Of all the Cavendishes in all the world. I turn to look at her, wondering how I failed to make this connection. How cruel is the goddess to force that coincidence upon me? “Are you sure?”
Sierra nods. “I said he was an asshole, and Mike agreed. He said at least now Austin is so famous that he’ll never come home again.”
That is mildly reassuring. The last thing I need is to ever cross paths with that… man.
On the other hand, I might enjoy making him aware of my perspectives.
No, I definitely would enjoy it, but he might sue me as a result.
Better he stays away. I might actually have some net worth soon.
“I guess that means he’s my uncle,” Sierra muses.
Poor kid.
“I guess you have a lot of new family now,” I say instead, proud of my diplomacy.
She laughs. “Or maybe none at all. You should have heard Mike’s dad.”
“You don’t look worried about it.”
Sierra shakes her head. “I don’t need him. I have my non-dad, and my dad, and Una and Mom and you, and that’s all the family anybody could need.”
“Amen, sister.”
The opening credits for the show roll and I wish I had a drink. Not Una’s tea or Sylvia’s flavoured soda water. No, I want a good old-fashioned drink. A double Scotch. Single malt. No ice. No damn twist.
There are more sounds from the studio. I turn up the volume on the show.
“There’s probably thrusting,” Sierra mutters, arms folded across her chest as she glares at the iPad.
“Mmm, hmm,” I say appreciatively, winning another dark look.
“Parents shouldn’t be allowed to have sex!” she insists. “It’s… it’s…” Lost for words, she makes a face, which eloquently conveys exactly what she means.
“Well, you know they did at least once, or you wouldn’t be here.”
“But they weren’t parents then!”
I smile. “They’re probably enjoying themselves and where’s the harm in that?”
Sierra shudders.
I lean closer so that our gazes are level. “What’sreallythe problem, kiddo? Don’t you want them to be together and happy?”
“I do. I do!” She wrinkles her nose. “But I have to see them later and pretend I don’t know what they were doing with the moist and everything.”
There is that. “I think you might have to reconcile yourself to a certain amount of thrusting in your vicinity in future. Maybe even some awkward breakfast moments.”
