Page 93
Story: The Mirror
“I settled on moncoon.”
As Cleo picked up the knife again, Sonya looked at other sketches. “These are fabulous. Magical. Oh! You made Yoda a butterfly!”
“He’s got such an interesting body type, that brindle coat, so I thought add wings, miniaturize, and we’ve got a butterhound. This is pure entertainment for me.”
She set the first potato in a baking dish. “One down,” she said, and picked up another. “Three to go.” She smiled over at Sonya. “We’re doing fine, Son.”
More than fine, Sonya thought when Cleo put the potatoes in the oven, prepped the chops. To contribute, she did what she now considered her baking specialty. She made beer bread.
Yoda barked and raced out of the kitchen. The cat slithered down from the stool.
A minute later, they heard answering barks and male voices.
“We’ve got company.”
Trey walked in. “Owen went up to put his stuff away. Hey, your hair.”
Deliberately, Sonya tossed it. “What about it?”
“Looks great. It always does.”
“Good answer.” She kissed him, then leaned into him, wrapped her arms around him. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Because he heard something in her voice, he looked over her head at Cleo.
“Everything okay here?”
“It is,” Sonya assured him. “But it’s not often we get through a day at the manor without something. And today wasn’t one of those without-something days.”
“We’re having wine,” Cleo decided. “We’re all having wine because this meal is going to deserve it. I’m going to open a bottle, pour it out. Then Sonya will tell her latest tale.”
“Dobbs?” Trey asked, and Sonya nodded.
“Dobbs.”
Chapter Thirteen
They waited for Owen. Sonya had to give Trey credit for patience, because he didn’t push.
Then again, he never really did push, she admitted. And when he nudged, it was so subtle you didn’t realize you’d been nudged until you stood where he wanted you.
She considered that his superpower.
Instead of a push, he fed the dogs and the cat while Cleo put string beans on to steam.
They waited.
When Owen wandered in, all eyes turned to him. He stopped, frowned.
“What?”
“We were waiting for you.” Cleo handed him the fourth glass.
“Why?”
“So Sonya can tell you both what happened about an hour ago.”
“Before I do, I’m going to say it’s all part of living in this house. It’s part of my inheritance, and if I accept the manor, I take the rest with it.”
As Cleo picked up the knife again, Sonya looked at other sketches. “These are fabulous. Magical. Oh! You made Yoda a butterfly!”
“He’s got such an interesting body type, that brindle coat, so I thought add wings, miniaturize, and we’ve got a butterhound. This is pure entertainment for me.”
She set the first potato in a baking dish. “One down,” she said, and picked up another. “Three to go.” She smiled over at Sonya. “We’re doing fine, Son.”
More than fine, Sonya thought when Cleo put the potatoes in the oven, prepped the chops. To contribute, she did what she now considered her baking specialty. She made beer bread.
Yoda barked and raced out of the kitchen. The cat slithered down from the stool.
A minute later, they heard answering barks and male voices.
“We’ve got company.”
Trey walked in. “Owen went up to put his stuff away. Hey, your hair.”
Deliberately, Sonya tossed it. “What about it?”
“Looks great. It always does.”
“Good answer.” She kissed him, then leaned into him, wrapped her arms around him. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Because he heard something in her voice, he looked over her head at Cleo.
“Everything okay here?”
“It is,” Sonya assured him. “But it’s not often we get through a day at the manor without something. And today wasn’t one of those without-something days.”
“We’re having wine,” Cleo decided. “We’re all having wine because this meal is going to deserve it. I’m going to open a bottle, pour it out. Then Sonya will tell her latest tale.”
“Dobbs?” Trey asked, and Sonya nodded.
“Dobbs.”
Chapter Thirteen
They waited for Owen. Sonya had to give Trey credit for patience, because he didn’t push.
Then again, he never really did push, she admitted. And when he nudged, it was so subtle you didn’t realize you’d been nudged until you stood where he wanted you.
She considered that his superpower.
Instead of a push, he fed the dogs and the cat while Cleo put string beans on to steam.
They waited.
When Owen wandered in, all eyes turned to him. He stopped, frowned.
“What?”
“We were waiting for you.” Cleo handed him the fourth glass.
“Why?”
“So Sonya can tell you both what happened about an hour ago.”
“Before I do, I’m going to say it’s all part of living in this house. It’s part of my inheritance, and if I accept the manor, I take the rest with it.”
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