Page 81 of A Wolf After My Own Heart
Oz cleared his throat. He was having trouble figuring out if Lila was genuinely aggrieved, or fake-aggrieved to cover her concern. “I called her from the car so we could talk about Iowa.”
“You’re both uninvited pains in my ass,” Lila pointed out. “And you’d better stay for supper, because Macropi made ten gallons of chili for some reason.”
“And two pans of corn bread,” the lady in question added, coming in through the kitchen door while lugging…something. She gave Annette an awkward one-armed hug. “Where’s David, m’girl?”
“Case. I’ll fill him in when I go home. What’re the cubs up to?”
“They’re back in Lila’s shed, hoping I’ve forgotten about them. They’ve fixed it up nicely, Lila, and I assume that’s partly your doing?”
“It’s a shed,” Lila replied. “Why would I give a shit?”
Which wasn’t an answer, but Oz decided to keep that observation to himself.
“And look what I found!”
“Perfect. We can hang it right there,” Annette said, gesturing to the blank expanse of wall opposite the kitchen table. “There’s still a nail left from the last tenants.”
“Why have you dragged a whiteboard into my kitchen? And why do you think you’re going to hang the whiteboard you dragged into my kitchen? And where did you find a whiteboard to drag into my kitchen?”
“Your shed,” Mama Mac replied, in a tone that implied it would have been strange tonotfind a whiteboard there.
“Oh. Of course. My shed. The shed I should have inventoried, definitely. You found a whiteboard and hauled it in, just like people do every day because it’s perfectly normal and not weird at all.”
“Trust me, it will help.” From Annette, who retrieved her purse, dug around, then set half a dozen dry-erase markers on the table. “As will these.”
“Yep. Also totally normal. Whodoesn’twalk around with dry-erase markers just in case someone produces a random whiteboard? Again, why would you need—oh.” Oz had grabbed the black marker and started scribbling a rough Smalls family time line on the now-hung whiteboard. “So you guys work for IPA but don’t actually…y’know. WorkatIPA?”
Oz had no idea how to answer that, so he kept scribbling. Because the truth was tricky. They were brainstorming in the Curs(ed) House’s kitchen for the same reason that Annette occasionally wore salmon: because cub trafficking.
The kitchen screen door twanged open again. “Hi, Lila! Hi, the rest of you guys!”
“You know all our names, Sally,” Annette pointed out kindly.
“Uh-huh. So when’s dinner? For everybody, including the big kids who only wanted to help me so really they didn’t do anything wrong so they’re not really in trouble I bet?”
“I’m still thinking about that,” Mama Mac replied.
“Which part?” Lila asked.
“How much trouble they’re in.” To Sally: “And dinner is right after you go wash up.”
“I’m clean, though,” the cub protested as she was gently shoved toward the kitchen sink.
“You’ve been playing in a shed all afternoon, m’girl. You’ll be taking a shower tonight, too.”
“But it’s Friday!”
“And everyone knows Friday showers are absolutely forbidden,” Lila added. “Minnesota state law. Or is it a federal law? I haven’t kept up on the legislation.”
“You go wash up, too,” Mama ordered.
“I’m going, but not because you told me to. After wandering around in a field half the day, I need a shower. I’ll be quick, I promise.”
“Don’t rush,” Macropi told her. “This is your home. We’ll wait for you.”
Annette let out a groan they all ignored.
“I’ll hurry. And tossBaby4U. Or at least hide it properly.”
