Prentice’s look was already hard. “Aye. Now.”
Nigel hesitated then he sighed, “I’ll have a word.”
Prentice nodded. “It doesn’t work, Nigel, and I hear Elle didn’t have a good night then I’ll have a word with Hattie.”
The threat hung in the air for a moment before Nigel dipped his chin in acknowledgement.
Prentice was a man known not to make idle threats.
“See you Friday,” Prentice said by way of farewell.
“Aye, Friday.”
Prentice turned and walked away.
The children had not had to endure takeaway that night.
This was because, when Prentice and the kids came home, Jason found a note on the counter from Isabella informing them there was a shepherd’s pie in the fridge, explaining how to heat it up and telling them that the vegetables were already cut up and ready for boiling.
Jason may have found the note but Sally honed right in on the homemade chocolate cake that was sitting on the counter.
“PS,” Jason read as Sally was screeching about the cake, “tell Sally I’ve made cake for pudding but she has to eat all her broccoli. There’s ice cream in the freezer.”
When he was finished reading, Jason’s eyes moved to Prentice.
Sally danced around the kitchen chanting how much she loved chocolate cake.
Prentice smiled at his son.
His son smiled back.
Mikey was right.
Isabella could cook comfort food.
The shepherd’s pie was delicious.
And the cake was fucking exquisite.
But Prentice overcooked the vegetables.
It was pitch dark when Prentice jerked from a deep sleep, body alert after hearing the crash.
Tense, he listened to the sounds of his house for a moment and he could have sworn he heard a loud, drunken giggle.
He threw back the covers, knifed out of bed, exited his room and flipped the light switch on at the top of the stairs.
The lamp by the couch was on the floor, its ceramic base in pieces.
He was walking down the stairs when he saw movement in the hall. It was Isabella walking into the room wielding a broom.
Or, more accurately, Isabella weaving into the hall wielding a broom.
When she saw him, she stopped dead but her body swayed.
Then she smiled a huge, radiant smile that started at her hazel eyes and lit her entire face.
At the sight of her smile, Prentice felt the warmth of that satisfying weight hit his gut.
“Hi!” she cried happily as if it was the height of pleasure to see him.
“Isabella.”
She stared at him a moment or, more to the point, she stared at his mouth a moment. Then she looked at the broom in her hand as if she’d never seen one before and had no idea why she was carrying it.
Light dawned, her face fell and she looked back at Prentice, admitting, “I broke your lamp.”
He started to come into the room. “I can see. I could also hear.”
“I’ll buy you another one,” she told him immediately.
He shook his head. “You don’t have to buy another one.”
Her face lit again and she declared gleefully, “I’ll buy you three!”
He barely stopped himself from laughing. “You definitely don’t have to buy me three.”
“Lamps are good to have around,” she informed him authoritatively. “Even if you don’t use them all, you can keep them in storage as backups.”
This time, he couldn’t contain his chuckle.
She was rat-arsed. Completely drunk.
“It isn’t a common occurrence that we break lamps, Elle. We don’t need backups.”
This seemed to confuse her as if she broke lamps with great regularity and had a ready supply to act as replacements.
“Just in case,” she muttered then her eyes narrowed on him and her face became severe. “Don’t take another step.”
He’d neared her and didn’t stop moving while he said, “Sorry?”
He barely got out the word when she suddenly, for some drunken reason, swung the broom at him. He had to jerk his torso back to miss being hit.
This movement sent her off-balance, so much so, she collided with the chair. Twisting to right herself, she dropped the broom and Prentice swiftly moved forward and caught her at her waist, yanking her upright and into his body.
He watched her profile as she glared at the chair.
“Who put that there?” she snapped, continuing to scowl at the chair like she was willing it to disintegrate from the heat of her gaze.
“It’s always been there.”
She twisted her neck to look at him and announced, “It has not.”
He was finding it very difficult not to burst out laughing but somehow he succeeded in this task.
“It has,” he said.
“It hasn’t,” she retorted.
“It has.”
“It. Has. Not.”
He chuckled as he said, “Elle, it has.”
“Well!” she snapped. “That’s a silly place to put a chair. It’s dangerous, especially with the children around.” She caught his eye and advised stoutly, “You should move it.”
He put his hands to her hips and started to push her to the hall murmuring, “I’ll consider it.”
She suddenly stood stock-still and cried, “You’re barefoot!” She whirled to face him and announced, “Not another step, Prentice Cameron, you might cut yourself. I’m going to clean up the lamp.”
“I’ll clean it up after we get you to bed.”
“I broke it, I’ll clean it up. And anyway, you’re barefoot,” she returned.
“I’ll put on shoes. You’re in no state to clean up the lamp.”
She tilted her head, her face a wild range of expressions as she considered this.
Prentice watched her face, explicitly reading every thought that passed through her mind and enjoying the show.
Then she nodded. “Okay, you can clean it up but you have to promise to get every… single… piece so Sally doesn’t accidentally hurt herself.”
Her concern for his daughter also settled in his gut, it also was a warm, satisfying feeling and Prentice gently turned her around and pushed her again toward the hall while saying gruffly, “I promise.”
“All right then,” she gave in.
With difficulty he guided her through the hall. She couldn’t walk a straight line if paid a bigger fortune than she already had to do it.
“I thought you were staying at Fergus’s,” he remarked.
“I thought so too but Annie said no. No, no, no, no, no. No friend of hers was sleeping on a couch. We were all in the taxi and she made them all come right here. First! Even though Fergus’s is closer to the village,” she finished this story and slipped on the stairs, nearly going down, her hand thrown out to catch her fall but Prentice was close and hooked an arm around her waist again.
His arm tightened and he lifted her, carrying her the last two steps to the landing. He put her down and moved her around the corner, keeping his hands on her waist as he guided her up the last flight of steps.
When they hit her rooms, he let her go, flipped on the switch and she meandered in a random zigzag pattern to the bedroom.
All the while she meandered, she chattered.
“I love your children. They’re the best. But I especially love Sally.” She stopped, swayed, righted herself, twisted to look at him and said, “No, Jason. I especially love Jason.” Then her eyes went unfocused and she bit her lip before saying, “No, Sally.” Then her face filled with confusion before it cleared and she finished, “Oh hell, they’re both great.”