“No. My parents are not pet people. We had a fish tank, but they were decorations. I didn’t tell anyone I had names for all of them, although our maid, Isela, probably suspected. She showed me how to get rid of the smudges from my fingers on the glass. I wouldn’t even know how to take care of a dog.”
“You could learn. I think it would be good for Wyatt, but only if it was good for you, too. If you resented the dog, he’d know. Also, he needs some added chores and a conversation or two about lying, and maybe the virtue of patience. Also, I think you should have him clean up after the neighbor’s dog for at least a week.”
“This is your opinion as my friend?”
“No, I slipped into nanny mode again.”
“Well, being friends is new for us. I, uh, I have to go. I’ll leave you a note about consequences. It will be under the calendar page, okay?”
“Okay, bye.”
We’re friends! I’m grinning from ear to ear, and it isn’t until Kambryn hollers, “That didn’t sound like a work call,” that I realize she and Aubrey turned off the sound machine. I love them with all my heart, but they really are the worst.
Chapter 8 – Under the Calendar Page
Rosalie
Wyatt is waiting for me in the living room when I come in the next morning. This is new. He normally sleeps in. He’s combed his hair into submission, he’s got a little bit of dried toothpaste at the edge of his mouth, and he’s sitting up so straight and tall that he’s giving off eager-job-applicant vibes. Well, if job applicants came in with a guilty conscience.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I lied about you. Dad said he got mad at you because he thought we left him out of deciding on a dog. I didn’t think he’d call you. He usually just does whatever you say. You told him Callie wanted a goldfish, and he got her one. She didn’t even remember to feed it.”
“Ah.” The kid has a long memory. I had been wondering what Wyatt’s endgame was with involving me. “I love you, kid. Butwhen you lie to someone, or about someone, it’s kind of like sticking a big roadblock between you and them. It hurts your relationship.”
“And then you can’t love them anymore.”
“I’ll always love you. And your dad will always love you. But yeah, it kinda feels like you don’t love us when you lie, even if you think it’s for a good reason. Do you think we can move the roadblock so we trust each other again?”
He nods. “With chores.”
“Well, chores are a good start.” He’s almost getting too big for hugs. I walk over and softly fluff up his too-neat hair instead. “Chores and honesty. Why don’t you help me haul the laundry upstairs and you can tell me what else your dad said. I’m curious.”
“Can I wake up Callie?”
“She’s still in bed?”
“Yeah. I promise I won’t jump on her legs this time.”
“Go for it.” He makes a run for the stairs, and I have to call him back to remind him to help me with the laundry baskets first. I love his energy, though.
Callie does not appreciate him jumping on her bed, even if he misses her legs this time, but her grumpy demeanor quickly turns to smiles, and she follows us around while Wyatt and I deliver stacks of clothes to the right drawers. Liam has a cleaning company that comes once a week, which is so nice, but like dishes, laundry never sleeps. I folded all these stacks yesterday but didn’t get a chance to put them away.
Wyatt takes the underwear from me and punches it down into his drawer to make it all fit, telling me about the blanket fort they made last night. I hide a smile. Organization is not his strong suit. I bet if we emptied out that underwear drawer, we’d find odd socks, candy wrappers, and toys. Maybe later.
“Ready for breakfast?” I ask him.
“Yeah. I’m starving. Oh, I’m supposed to apologize to Callie, too, because my big lie caused a bunch of little lies. Like when Dad asked her if you said that. And she said ‘yeah’ or something like that. Sorry, Callie.”
She’s humming and only paying half attention, but when hegoes over and hugs her, she says, “It’s okay, Wyatt.”
Once they’re occupied with their breakfast of toast and eggs at the table, I go over to the daily planner on the desk to see what Liam left for me. He said it would beunderthe calendar page.
I’m rewarded with a letter on ruled paper, rather than a sticky note, and I’m so surprised that I quickly fold it up and stick it in the front pocket of my jeans before one of the kids can ask about it.
Liam is a sticky note devotee, and I’m his convert. I bet he thinks in bullet points half the time. What is in this letter?
“I’m in charge of dishes!” Wyatt announces, bringing his plate over to the sink. He devoured his food in less than a minute. That might be a new record.
“Oh, okay.” I can get behind this chore apology. When Callie’s finished, I take her plate and stack it with his.