Alexa: Announcement: “SOOOOOUUUUIIIIEEE!! Come get your bacon, kids. Breakfast is served.”
“Oh my God,” Brenden protests as he reaches the landing of the stairs with Wyatt in his arms. “Who in the hell taught Dad how to use Alexa?”
Whitney points to Thatch, who winces. “My bad.”
We all hear Allen instructing Alexa from wherever he is in the house. Another announcement sounds.
Alexa: Announcement: “Eat up and be ready in thirty. We’re heading out.”
Brenden projects his voice as they enter the dining room. “We can hear you yelling into the fancy tech contraption, Dad, so cut it out. Mom, please tell me there’s coffee.”
“Get it yourself, brat. I’m cooking.”
“I’ve got you, babe,” Erin says to Brenden before turning to me with a soft, “Morning, Eli.”
“Morning,” I reply. Erin and Brenden’s personalities are a complete contrast to the other, the very definition of yin and yang. Where Brenden is opinionated and intense, Erin is laid back and soft-spoken, and yet they work, or they seem to.
Ruby enters from the kitchen and sets down a platter of bacon and eggs, her expression warming as she scans her children and grandchildren as they set up highchairs and huddle around the table. “Toast is coming.”
Only Whitney acknowledges her as the rest of the table remains distracted.
“Looks good, Mom. Thank you. I would’ve helped.”
“Eli offered half a dozen times already. Don’t fret. It’s a simple breakfast,” she assures with a hand on Whitney’s shoulder before heading back into the kitchen.
“I’ve got the dishes,” Whitney and I call after her at the same time.
Whitney’s eyes meet mine briefly, and I give her a smile that she does not return. “Morning.”
“Morning,” she mutters as she takes the seat across from me.
Alexa sounds off again, and shortly after, Burl Ives’ “Holly Jolly Christmas” starts to play throughout the house.
“Jesus,” Brenden says, shaking his head before shooting me a wary look, “Did I warn you my family was insane?”
“Yeah, you did,” I say with a chuckle.
“Did you sleep well?” Erin asks as Whitney again glances my way. I can’t quite decipher the look before her eyes stray.
“Perfect. Thanks.”
Brenden secures Wyatt in his chair and takes the seat next to me. “In the den, you’re in safe range from Dad’s snoring.”
“Didn’t hear a thing. It’s peaceful here.”
Brenden gawks at me like I’m growing an extra head as I pile some eggs on my plate. “Give it time, man.”
Whitney pushes a bowl of grapes out of Peyton’s reach before locking him into his highchair.
“No grapes, Pey, Pey.”
“Why not?” I ask, making simple conversation in an attempt to engage.
“Because he could choke.” She averts her attention to Peyton putting down a small plastic bowl on his highchair. “Bananas.” She breaks the fruit into large chunks before fastening a bib around his neck.
“You’re a wild one, aren’t you?” I ask with a grin.
“Mep,” he replies before shoving some banana in his mouth.
Brenden chuckles. “When did that start?”
Thatch speaks up, sporting a fond grin while eyeing his son. “A week or two ago. And I have no idea where he got it.”
Serena comes in with full coffee mugs setting one down for Thatch.
“Thanks, babe,” Thatch says absently. Serena’s expression falls when Brenden thanks Erin for delivering his coffee by way of a smack on the butt and a heated look, which is anything but subtle.
“Ewww, Uncle Brenden,” Gracie pipes in.
“Hush your face,” Brenden scolds, reaching over to run his hand down her face, before pulling her nose up with his pointer, giving her pig nose. “Killjoy.”
“What’s a k-killjoy?” Gracie asks with a giggle, batting her uncle’s hand away.
“Google it,” Thatch replies.
“I can’t Google anything, Daddy, because you took my phone.”
“Technically, your mother did.”
“So, you’ll give my phone back to me, Daddy?”
Sugary-sweet and innocent. A born manipulator, a natural.
Fire shoots from Serena’s eyes, and Thatch winces.
Allen appears, taking his seat at the head of the table where he screams his greeting. “Morning, family, Eli.”