Page 25 of Faith Notes
“Fine. Next time I’ll wait for you. I’ll let you be my knight in shining armor.”
“Thank you,” I say, tugging on a strand of her hair before I grab her hand and walk to the store. “So, do you have any ideas for the nursery?”
An evil glint sparks in her eyes when she turns to me. “Oh, Grayson. I have a lot of ideas.”
Then she pulls a shopping list out of her pocket, and I watch in horror. The paper is filled, front and back, with a list of items.
I have a feeling this trip might hurt my bank account and test my patience for shopping.
Chapter 10
Grayson
28 Weeks
Atwo-by-four swings around at my head, and I have to dunk so it doesn’t hit me directly in the temple.
“For the love of Pete, will you watch where you are swinging that thing?” I growl at Brooks.
He swings back around to look at me, and I have to dunk again. There’s a smug grin on his face when he looks at me, and it’s all I need to see to know he did it on purpose.
I look to the ceiling, questioning whether god gave me the most annoying little brother or if all little brothers are this way.
“Why do you even have a two-by-four, Brooks? We are painting the nursery, not building anything.”
“Maybe you are painting, but I’m doing man’s work.”
I eye him suspiciously. “Which is what, exactly?”
“I’m not telling you. You’ll want to join, and then the painting won’t get finished.”
“So you are going to leave me to paint on my own?” I ask, glaring at him now.
He shrugs. “Exactly.”
Then he whips back around, and I have to hit the dirt to keep from taking a hit to the jaw.
“Painting was the whole point of you coming over here,” I call after him.
But he either didn’t hear me or is ignoring me, and the probability of it being the latter is extremely high.
Pushing myself off the ground, I stand, dust my pants off, and nearly jump out of my skin when the sweetest little voice comes beside me.
“I’ll help you paint, Uncle Grayson.”
My hand flies to my heart when I turn to face my niece. “Avery, what are you doing here?”
She shrugs, pulling an unwrapped sucker out of her pocket and shoving it in her mouth. I cringe at the lint that must be all over that thing, but she doesn’t seem to mind.
“Mommy and Aunt Georgia said I should supervise you and Daddy. I didn’t know what that word meant, but Mommy said it means I get to boss you around.”
I sigh, squeezing the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger. “And where, might I ask, did your mommy and Aunt Georgia slip off to?”
Another shrug. Another lick of her sucker.
“Don’t know. They didn’t say. Aunt Georgia was looking for your wallet before she left, though.”
The hold on my nose grows tighter, and I groan. “I think my wallet may be in trouble, Avery.”
