standing at the other side of the island holding our girl.
“Good morning, Elena,” the woman said, surprise all over her voice too.
Heh.
I shot Jonah a sneaky look as I stretched my arms over my head—my shoulder shooting me a slight fuck you in the process—and asked, “Need help with anything?”
From the looks of it, we were being fancy and shit. We usually fended for ourselves after Grandpa made pancakes or waffles or whatever he was gracing us with, but from the platters I suddenly spotted on the counter, he was done. There was fruit salad, tofu scramble with potatoes, onions, tomatoes, and bell peppers, a bottle of maple syrup and another bottle of honey, and as soon as Peter got done, there were going to be berries too for topping, along with the pancakes.
Whether he was trying to fuck with Sarah or with Jonah, I had no idea. We hadn’t done anything special any other time Jonah had eaten with us but knowing Grandpa, maybe both, because except for the holidays, we didn’t do buffet-style meals. So I knew he was up to something. Showing off? Killing them with fake kindness? I should’ve been surprised he hadn’t run out to the store and bought placemats at the rate he was going.
But as I looked at my grandfather’s profile, he didn’t look like he was up to no good, and I didn’t know what the hell to do with that.
He was purposely not looking at me either, so….
“No, everything is done,” Peter answered as he pushed the bowl of berries toward the middle of the island, catching my eye as he stood straight and then winked at me.
What’s going on? I mouthed, not able to keep from frowning because I could expect some devious shit from Grandpa—of course I could—but Peter being in on it?
The grin he flashed me didn’t make me feel better, but it did at the same time.
“Jonah, coffee or tea?” Peter asked.
“Tea, please. Herbal if you have it,” he replied, standing there while the baby in his arms slapped his cheeks and made his eyes go wide. He whispered something back that had her talking back to him.
Peter’s head swiveled toward me, and I nodded.
“I’ll drink whatever you have,” Jonah amended, I guess noticing our back and forth.
“We have herbal,” I told him as Peter went back to the container where he had grabbed Sarah’s. I’d told both him and Grandpa about it a few days ago when the box had arrived with my regular shipment of matcha tea I took to Maio House.
“Lenny ordered you some,” Grandpa mentioned under his breath, peeking at me as he turned the knob on the range to turn it off.
I felt my nostrils flare.
“You got what? Four different kinds, Len?” the other man I was planning on disowning as soon as we were in private said as he turned toward the island holding a plate with what looked like twenty pancakes stacked on top of each other.
“Yes.” I glanced at Jonah before moving around the island to grab forks from a drawer while everyone else sat wherever they wanted. In my head, I could sit by myself on one end, he could sit with his mom, and The Traitor and Up to No Good could be beside each other.
No one said anything, and when I turned back around with silverware in my hand, my hopes for the seating arrangement had disappeared.
Fortunately—or unfortunately—Mo’s high chair was beside Sarah, who had already angled her stool toward her. There was an expression that I wouldn’t have believed she was capable of yesterday on her face as she watched Mo, like she was a fucking unicorn or something. Which she was.
Jonah, though, was on the side I’d planned to sit on next to Peter, with a free stool beside him. I slipped into it and looked around expectantly.
What the hell was everyone waiting for? Did they… did the Collins family pray before eating? Because it was a Sunday? Was that why Peter and Grandpa weren’t moving? Jonah had never prayed before a meal.
Uh….
“Baby Jesus, thank you for our food. Amen,” Grandpa Gus rushed out all of a sudden out of fucking nowhere, startling the fuck out of Peter and me, who both stared at him like we didn’t know who the hell he was anymore.
And….
Did he say baby Jesus?
The cough beside me had me glancing at Jonah, who had his lips pressed together and his gaze straight ahead at the wall behind his mom