I’m sitting at the usual family table in the dining room at The Getaway Lodge. Mom is busy talking to the guests, while Wren pushes her eggs around on her plate.
“Come on, eat.”
“Why did Uncle Jensen make me eggs? I don’t like eggs.” She looks at the eggs with disgust.
“Because you need a little protein in you.” I finish my plate of over-easy eggs and toast, wiping my mouth and sipping my coffee. I’d love to get out of here before my mom corners me about Delaney being back in town.
“I like pancakes,” Wren says.
I huff, knowing she’s not going to touch her eggs.
“Wren, you can’t always eat what you want.” I lean back in my chair.
Delaney’s been living in my head since she got back. She starts the job today, and I’m not sure what to expect. I had an appointment that would’ve taken me out of the office, but the clients wanted to come in for the meeting because the wife is having some women’s brunch and wants to pick up some bouquets while she’s there.
“Why not?” she asks, interrupting my thoughts.
“Four bites.”
“Two,” she argues back.
“Six.”
She groans and jabs her fork into the eggs.
“Hey, who takes your friend Leia to school?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“Her mom?”
“I don’t think so.”
It’s clearly not Leia’s dad.
“Grandma? Grandpa?”
Wren puts the eggs in her mouth and gags. Quickly, her hand grabs her orange juice, and she takes a sip, swallowing it down.
“It’s not that bad.” I can’t help but chuckle at her dramatics.
“You’re only saying that because you eat that drippy yellow stuff.”
“Here you go.” Mom slides a plate with two pancakes in front of Wren.
“Thanks, Grandma!” Wren pushes away the eggs, already forgotten, and grabs the syrup, smothering her pancakes.
“Undermining me again.” I arch an eyebrow at Mom.
“The guests were looking, and you sound like one of those mean dads.” My mom sits at the table with us. “Briar has Colter with her today. If you hurry, you can spend some time with them, Wren.”
“We don’t have time. I have to get her to school and then get back for work.”
Mom studies me for a second. “Oh, going in early?”
There’s a note in her tone that suggests she’s going to interrogate me the minute Wren leaves this table.
I glance at my daughter, who’s now shoveling pancakes into her mouth, both cheeks puffy and full. My focus shifts back to my mom, and any patience I had this morning is already running thin.
