Page 46 of The Write Choice

By the time Katie returns with a rosy Christine, the kitchen is clean, the grill pan is heating up, and I’m mixing ground beef and seasoning into burger patties. My parents are playing a card game with Mason that he invented with ever-changing and wildly unclear rules, and the first set of cookies are about ready to come out of the oven.

I catch Katie’s eyes over Christine’s damp hair. She gives me a half-smile before planting a kiss on Christine’s head. They both look more relaxed, too. Katies shoulders aren’t riding up to her ears, and Christine has her thumb in her mouth and her head is buried into Katie’s chest.

If I could paint, this is the scene I’d want to capture. My two girls, all rosy cheeks and smooth skin, tucked into each other and at ease.

Christine abruptly tries to wriggle out of Katie’s grasp. “Gamma! I sit with Gamma.” She marches over to my mom, who scoops her up off the floor.

“Oh, come here you little angel,” Mom coos. And, dammit, that’s pretty cute, too.

The buzzer on the oven goes off. Katie puts on an oven mitt and takes the cookies out, then slides two more trays in. I come up next to her with burger patties and toss them on the pan.

“You okay?” I ask under my breath.

“Yeah.” Her voice is terse.

“Sorry I was late,” I offer.

She glances sidelong at me and shakes her head almost imperceptibly. We’re not talking about that now, then. I know better than to push it.

“Mason,” I call as I flip a burger. “Did you show Grandma and Grandpa around the house?”

“He sure did,” my dad answers for him. I hate when they answer for the kids as if they can’t speak for themselves, but Mason puffs up with pride.

“And how was your first day at school?” I flip the other burgers as I talk. Katie leans back against the counter, her arms wrapped around her torso, watching the scene. I also hate how she tends to feel like an outsider looking in on this family time with my parents, but I understand. She’s always felt like my family is from a totally different world.

“It was awesome. Brody is in my class, and the teacher let us sit next to each other because I’m new. And we read a book about sea turtles. Did you know turtles don’t have teeth?”

I chuckle, flattening the burger patties with my spatula. “I don’t think I did know that.”

“Oh, I bet you did.” Mom bounces a giggling Christine on her knee. Then, she addresses Mason. “Your father had a turtle phase.”

“What’s a phase?” Mason asks.

“He was obsessed with turtles. Had turtle posters and stuffed animals everywhere. He wrote Grandpa and me a persuasive letter to ask us to let him get a turtle as a pet,” Mom elaborates.

Mason’s eyes are wide. “Did you let him?”

Mom shudders. “No. Turtles are creepy.”

Katie huffs, and I look over to catch her fighting a smile.

“What?” Mason exclaims. “How are they creepy?”

“They hide their whole bodies in those shells. How do they do that? It’s weird,” Mom insists.

Mason scrunches up his face as if that’s the silliest thing he’s ever heard, then turns to Katie.

“Don’t even think about it,” Katie jumps in before he can ask.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say!” Mason protests.

I chuckle. “You were going to ask for a turtle.”

Mason harumphs. I take the burgers off the pan and add a few more patties. Mason perks up. “But, Dad, you always wanted one and never could have one. You could live out your childhood dreams!”

I make a show of considering the offer while Katie eyes me warily. “Hmm. Tempting, but no.”

I put plates, burgers, buns, and condiments on the island before telling everyone dinner is ready and to serve themselves. My parents look a little put off by the buffet-style eating, but Katie jumps right in to help Christine make up a plate of food she’ll probably just push around. She gets the kids settled at the dining room table, then serves herself.