Page 30 of Frog

“I guess not. God. I’m surprised my folks even let him bring him in the house.”

I leaned my head against the door and listened to the two men laugh over me some more before they walked away and their voices trailed down the hall.

Waiting, I finally came out and walked back out into the living room. I took a seat down on the floor between Micah and Tristan. In seconds, Pip was in my lap.

Angie called us to dinner, and I sat on the end with the kids even though Cyrus looked over at me before Ross took the seat beside him. I talked to the kids, and when Tristan was done, he started to just stand up.

“Where are you going?”

His head snapped up to me. “I’m done.”

“Oh?”

“What?” He was irritated with me, ready to go do something else, and his tone was defiant and snide.

“Don’t say ‘what’, say ‘pardon me’.”

“Wha—pardon me?”

“Exactly right.”

He was squinting at me. “So I’m supposed say pardon me?”

“Yessir.”

He scoffed and got ready to get up again.

“I ask again, where are you going?”

“I’m done,” he barked, annoyed.

“First,” I began, leaning forward, “you thank your grandmother for the fine meal you just had, then you ask to be excused, and finally you carry your plate to the sink, because neither your grandmother nor your mother is your maid.”

He looked at me hard, and I arched an eyebrow for him.

“You’re not my father,” he whispered.

“No, sir,” I agreed, waiting on him.

The room was quiet around us.

After a minute, he took a breath. “Nana,” he said, turning to look down the long table at her.

“Yes, Tris?”

“The chicken was really good. Thank you for making it.”

“You’re very welcome,” she answered, and I heard her voice quaver.

“May I please be excused?”

“Yes, you may.”

His eyes flicked back to me, and I nodded. He got up and walked his plate to the sink.

“Nana,” Pip said, “me and Micah liked the food too. Can we go?”

“Yes, dear.” She chuckled.