27)

We sat in silence for a good twenty minutes before she started getting restless, so I called it good enough. Up till then I could see her begin to relax, bit by bit loosing the strain in her shoulders from being constantly on guard.

“Okay that’s enough for today, best we look in on the other two before Sara breaks something else.”

Ami looked a bit shocked at the accusation, then gave me a big grin. A whole lot better then the shy smiles and nervous giggles I had gotten from her up to now.

Looking in on the other two revealed both Aran and his sister intently building things, Sara intent on stacking up blocks as high as she could while Aran was...not sure exactly. It’s kinda looked like he was building a circuit board out of legos on four of the big flat grey pieces with craters on one corner, connecting a two layered stacks of blocks with connecting rows and side pieces.

Still not sure if the kid is on whatever the heck the spectrum is or is just a born engineer, which might be the same thing. Of course with two older sisters he might just be used to never getting to talk for himself.

I put my finger in front of my lips to signal Ami into silence and walked off, once we got far enough away. “Let’s just let them play while we figure out what we’re going to do for lunch.”

Her eyes widened, “Can I pick?”

I gave her a nod. “But you got to remember to pick out something everyone will eat, and those two seem pretty picky. Actually that’s not fair, Aran has gobbled down whatever I’ve given him. I just expect a little kid to be picky.’

She nodded, “He can be, but you do kind of eat like a kid, so it’s all stuff he likes anyways.”

I grinned to myself. “I usually eat a lot healthier, but being able to eat anything I want for the first time in years got me a little carried away. The next shopping trip will involve more lean meat and chicken breasts and less junk food.’

She gave me a approving nod.

Then the knife. “And I'll blame it all on you.”

She stopped and gave me a shocked look of betrayal before jogging to catch up with a annoyed sounding. “Grandpa!”

I nearly tripped. My son calling me Dad had been almost forced out of him and said in a hesitant exploratory kind of way. That Grandpa was …natural, verbalizing something that had grown over the last two days.

Felt... pretty nice really, but still a bit of a shock.

I let the kid poke around into every cardboard, the fridge, the walk in freezer, and the pantry, answering each question in turn.

“That’s a waffle maker, we can give it a try tomorrow. I like fresh baked bread, so I grabbed one of each kind of flour and I've been trying out recipes for each one. That’s an air fryer, it supposed to be healthier but I haven’t gotten around to trying it. No the freezer was already part of the house, and all the ice was because I don’t buy enough to fill it up and the ice keeps it cold enough to make it cheaper to keep cool. Yes you can have a cookie, how about some milk to go with it.”

Ok, according to the girl, all three of them are at least mildly lactose intolerant, good to know right after buying two jugs of milk, all kinds of cheese, and the ice cream. Oh well, more for me.

She got cider instead, and made up a tray for the other two. We had decided on sandwiches for lunch, and she was going to put together a “Make your own” Taco salad for dinner.

Good, about time these layabouts started to earn their keep.

Sara was playfully chasing a manically giggling Aran around the game room as we got upstairs, her scattered edifice mute evidence of what little boys do when they see someone finish arranging wooden blocks into their grand design.

Ami slowly tottered over with her tray, careful not to spill the three glasses and set it down on the coffee table, it occurred to me that I had a dining cart in the closet off the kitchen just for this sort of thing. Oh well, I can always claim I didn’t bother to tell her about it because I liked to see her struggle instead of just forgetting about it.

After getting them all on a sugar high I was left with at least another hour to kill before it was late enough to do lunch, so I took them down to the home gym downstairs and let them play with the machines and other equipment. At the very least it tired out Sara as she alternated between wanting to try out everything, and trying to keep Aran from hurting himself as he made the circuit of the free weights, hand squeezers, and the various weight machines.

Watching her running back and forth kept me and her sister entertained.

She finally figured it out. “Will you stop grinning at me and help!”

I shook my head at her. Nope.

There had been a few occasions that I had read that traumatic memories stay with you the longest, and that childhood memories are precious. So I had always joked that therefore children should be traumatized whenever possible.

Just doing my job here.

As the two of them started to tucker down we moved back to the kitchen where me and Ami laid out the breads, veggies, lunch meats, and condiments, along with odd and ends like pickles, breaded onions, and chips to go with or on the sandwiches.

Apparently putting sour cream and onion lay’s chips on a turkey and wheat bagel was a revelation to the boy in terms of sandwich possibilities.

See, I can be educational too.

I did make him go light on cheese, it was dairy, but then again I wasn’t the one sharing a room with the boy.

We were almost finished with the meal and I had started to on the put stuff away part when the phone rang again.

Junior’s number.

All three kids froze in place and stared “Hello”

“Hello, Dad...still feels weird saying that, but calling you John or Mr Latch doesn’t feel right either. So no high stakes drama, my wife is fine. Her grandfather is playing his cards close to his chest, acting like this is just another family visit while we get ready for a big family luncheon, but Suki wants to talk to the kids, and she is really nervous about talking to you...”

His voice went a little distant as he started to talking to someone else. “Ow, well you are, stop hitting me, you’re making us look bad in front of my father. Stop hitting me.”

He started talking on the phone again. “So anyways, please don’t mess with her, she’s barely keeping it together and gets violent when she, Ow!, starts to loose it, here’s Yuki.”

Is it bad I unconsciously expected a third generation Asian American to have an accent, never mind, I know it’s bad.

“Hi Mr Lathe. I’m Yuki Caine, well you knew that already, well maybe not the Caine part, but, anyways, I’m looking forward to meeting you and thank you for taking care of my kids, I...”

I stopped her, “I’m glad to meet you Yuki,” Oh, that perked the kids up. “and call me John, we can talk later, at which time I will begin to mess with you, right now I got three kids about to bum rush me to steal the phone, so let me put the kids on.”

Aran looked nearly in tears so he got first shot at it.

How does my kid always manage to call right as we’re finishing a meal?