Page 55 of Priestly Sins

I offer my hand and she accepts. We make our way to the door, as if we’ve co-parented for years instead of days, and flip the lights off as we head for the kitchen.

“Well?”

“Well, what?” She looks confused.

“Well,” I draw out the word. “Do we get a dog?”

“There are a thousand ways to answer that, but the simple one is no.”

“What are the other nine hundred and ninety-nine?” I love pushing her buttons and challenging her does just that.

“They include: She’s playing you. We have lived here a week and don’t know where we’re going from here. Dogs are a lot of work, and Seriously?”

I step closer to her and drop my head to stare into her eyes. “I have no idea how much work they are. I haven’t had one since I was a kid and I didn’t do much of anything to help out. I know it’s been a week but we’re here for the long haul and we’re all home, all the time.”

She just stares back, nervous and a little defiant. I’m guessing she doesn’t want to be challenged when it comes to her daughter and how she makes decisions.

“And, sweetheart?”

She blinks and nods.

“I’m fully aware that she’s playing me.”

“Yeah?”

She licks her lips and drops her eyes to my mouth.

Fuck. I lean a bit closer and whisper, “Yeah.”

At the last minute, I move my lips to her ear and whisper, “And I think you should start baking again. For Clara, of course.” My chuckle brings goosebumps to her arms.

I lean back. “Get me a list of what you need—ingredients, utensils, bowls, etc. and I’ll get it ordered. This house needs more pink desserts.”

I head to my office, leaving her standing in the hallway.

The next morning, I smell coffee brewing and hear feminine voices in the kitchen. When I make my way to the kitchen, I’m met with a gray morning, but the sun peeking through the clouds tries to burn off the morning fog. I’m also met with a sloshing mug of coffee that Clara is trying desperately to get to me quickly and without spilling a drop, a challenging combination.

I take it from her and thank her with a smile. I take a big gulp and about the moment the overly-sugared sludge hits my mouth, Clara says, “I made it for you all by myself, Poppa!” Sirona’s light snicker means she was in on it.

I force my throat to swallow the thick liquid sugar down and say, “Thank you, precious girl. It’s delicious.”

“Does it have enough sugar?”

Sirona’s body shakes with silent laughter with at Clara’s query.

“Oh, that it does, sweetheart.”

I make my way to Sirona and spank her playfully on the butt. “Good morning to you.”

Her face is mottled red from trying so hard not to burst out with laughter.

“I owe you for the coffee.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” she says, biting her lip to avoid laughing out loud.

“No, really.” I take another sip and turn to face out the window to swallow, working hard not to make a face. “I’m gonna need a warm-up,” I add while reaching for the coffeepot to dilute the coffee syrup.

“Want me to make it?” Exuberant Clara runs my way.