Page 9 of Trusting Skulls

I’m stuck here, at least until my parents call and tell them they need me at home. I know they’ll want me back. Someone has to watch the house.

Chapter Four

Lexie

“Lexie. Lexie, it’s time to eat!” Dirk yells up the stairs.

I pull my pillow over my head, but my stomach growls as a heavenly scent enters my nostrils. I’m hungry, but the thought of seeing Dirk and Jesse makes me debate with my stomach on whether food is worth it or not.

Ugh, the belly wins. I throw the covers off and jog down the stairs. There are three plates at the table. Jesse and Dirk are standing at the kitchen sink together. I quickly grab my plate, mumble a thank you, and turn to head back up to my solitary confinement.

“Park it,” Dirk says after whistling sharply.

My gaze goes to the windows, and I can see him standing with his hands on his hips in the reflection.

I turn around. This absolutely sucks. I carefully set my plate down and lower myself into a chair. Jesse and Dirk join me.

“Do you like to cook?” Jesse asks me, and I internally groan. I hate small talk.

“No. I usually order in,” I tell her honestly.

“Would you like to learn?” she asks.

I’m about to politely decline when Dirk taps my foot with his boot. I sigh. “Yeah, that would be great.”

She nods, her gaze leaving mine to rest on her husband. He’s shoveling food in his mouth like he’s not part of the conversation.

“I’ll wake you up before I start breakfast. I planned on making homemade cinnamon rolls.”

“That sounds good,” I tell her.

There’s an awkward silence before they slip into an easy conversation between the two of them. My shoulders fall in relief. I eat as fast as I can without looking like a crazy person.

“Can I leave the table?” I ask as soon as my plate is clean.

“Yes, but don’t forget …”

I cut Dirk off as I stand. “Yeah, I know.” Quickly, I gather all the dishes that I can and head to the kitchen. I set everything on the counter and begin rinsing a plate. When I look for the dishwasher, I realize there isn’t one.

Jesse turns in her chair. “There’s no dishwasher, hun. We live old school here at the cabin.”

She must notice the look on my face, because she saves me before I make a complete embarrassment out of myself.

“Here, let me help get you started. I know where everything is,” she says, looking over her shoulder at her husband. He’s leaned back in his chair, watching us.

She taps my arm lightly, pointing at the sink.

“Thank you,” I say quietly as she shows me how to fill the sink with water and soap.

“We usually just let them dry here on the dishrack.” She pulls a rack out from under the sink, and places it on the counter. “It drains right into the sink.”

I feel so stupid. I’ve never done dishes by hand before. But I do know how to fill a dishwasher. I always make sure it’s ready to go for our housekeeper who works every other day.

She pats me on the back before her and Dirk move to the living room while I finish cleaning up. I look out the window as I run the dishcloth over a pan. My friend told me there was a party tonight out at the reservoir. I wonder who all is there.

I’m also curious to know if my parents have called the club.

When I’m finished, I hover behind my jailors as they sit on the couch. I want to go back upstairs, but I also want to know if I’m going to get out of here tonight.

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