“Um… it’s fall,” I hedged. “Everyone wears gloves in the fall.”
“Yeah, when they’re outside. Not inside.” His huge hazel eyes narrowed a shade. “Definitely not during breakfast.”
I merely shrugged. “Maybe I just like them. They’re fashionable.”
His eyes narrowed further; he wasn’t buying it.
“Or,” I said conspiratorially, lowering my voice to a whisper. “Maybe I have superpowers. Maybe, when I touch things, I have psychic visions I can’t control.” I waggled my fingers at him. “Maybe I’m a totally cool clairvoyant with magic you can hardly fathom.”
There was a long beat of silence.
Then, from both boys in perfect unison, “Yeah,right!”
I shrugged and sipped my coffee, unbothered.
“Mom says it’s bad to fib,” Rory informed me.
“Who says I’m fibbing?”
“Me!”
“And I’m supposed to trustyou? A self-proclaimed alien?” I shook my head at the kid. “I don’t think so, E.T.”
“What’s E.T.?”
I stared up at the ceiling and wailed, “God, what’s happening to the youth of America? To cinema? Classic films have fallen by the wayside! It’s a travesty, I tell you! A travesty!”
Another silence descended.
When I glanced back at the boys, they were both staring at me like I was more than a little insane. Across the table, Declan pushed his — now empty — bowl away. He leveled me with a wholly unimpressed gaze and remarked, “You’re kinda weird, you know.”
Sighing, I muttered, “I do, in fact, know that.”
“Don’t be a dick, Dec!”
“Don’t say dick, dick!” Declan shot back at his younger brother.
“MOM!” Rory was abruptly on his feet. “Declan called me a dick!”
“Only ‘cause he called me a dick first!”
“Stop saying dick!”
“Youstop!”
Suddenly, I was alone at the table. Alone in the room, in fact, seeing as the elderly gentlemen had fled with his newspaper sometime around the seconddick. Pushing and shoving the entire way, both boys raced out of the parlor into the front lobby, leaving their breakfast plates behind. I quietly stacked them beneath my own and carried them over to the kitchenette area by the far wall, disposing of the scraps in the trash and rinsing them under the tap.
I did my best not to eavesdrop, but I could hear the muffled strains of conversation as Gigi soothed the fraternal squabble, her measured tones an underscore for the rapid-fire volley of her boys. By the time I’d washed the dishes and placed them on the rack to dry, a subdued Rory and Declan were marching through the parlor, headed for their apartment at the back of the first floor. They wore matching expressions of chastisement.
“I was just about to do those dishes!” Gigi announced, appearing suddenly beside me. “Thanks. Rory and Declan usually know better than to leave their mess lying around.”
“No trouble at all.”
“I’m sorry if they disturbed your breakfast. They’re off to get ready for school now, so you can enjoy your coffee in peace without any more roughhousing. Assuming they don’t miss their bus, that is…” Her smile was apologetic. “I’d promise that it isn’t always so chaotic around here, but… I’ve never been a good liar.”
I laughed. “I don’t mind. Honestly. They’re just kids being kids.”
“Most days, I feel like I’m raising two hellions.” She blew out a sharp breath. “And failing majorly as a mother.”