“Why don’t we get used to Blackie first,” Prentice suggested.
“Okay,” Sally agreed unusually easily then again, she was likely sated by afternoon cookies then she shouted, “Oh! And Elle and I made cookies today!”
There it was, the cookies.
Prentice’s eyes went to Isabella, Isabella’s guard slid into the vacuum that sucked time because his eyes were still smiling and they were filled with warmth when he enquired, “Why am I not surprised?”
“I don’t know. Why aren’t you?” Sally asked.
His gaze went back to his daughter, he chuckled and replied, “No reason, baby.”
Then he kissed Sally’s nose and put her down.
Then he got close to Isabella and with her hands filled with hamburger meat over a bowl she couldn’t move away. Not in a warm and friendly (but controlled) way.
In fact, not in any way.
Then he leaned around to her front and kissed her nose.
If she’d managed to get back on guard (which she hadn’t while watching Prentice come home and cuddle Sally), it would have slipped again.
Unfortunately, since she hadn’t and her guard was whirling in the vacuum toward some black hole, instead of slipping her guard exploded in the vacuum, completely obliterated and irretrievable, and thus would need to be regenerated.
Thinking all of this meant she wasn’t prepared for Prentice to go still at her side. Nor was she prepared for his eyes suddenly to slice to his son, brows drawn.
Isabella was watching Prentice and her thoughts of black holes flew away as worry invaded.
Prentice leaned a hand into the counter at her side and addressed Jason, “Jace, have you been studying Elle’s book?”
Jason stopped strumming and answered, “No, Elle’s taught me a few chords.”
At these words, Isabella went still.
She couldn’t imagine what Prentice would think of Isabella teaching his son guitar on his dead wife’s guitar. A guitar Fiona had for decades and carried with her everywhere. A guitar she would probably have taught Jason on herself had she lived.
Although she couldn’t imagine what he would think, she could imagine, whatever it was, it wouldn’t be good.
Isabella concentrated on the hamburger patty in her hand as if it would be judged for form and presentation and, if found lacking, the sentence was death.
This was difficult to do considering she felt the heat of Prentice’s eyes on her.
“You play?” he asked.
Without taking her eyes from the hamburger, she opened her mouth to speak but Jason got there before her, feeling in the mood to take over for Sally in keeping the information flowing.
“Aye, Dad. You should hear her. She’s good. She says she learned to play because of Mum.”
Prentice’s voice grew quiet when he queried, “You learned because of Fee?”
He called Fiona “Fee”.
That was sweet.
It was also sad.
Her throat blocked and she decided the best she could do was nod.
Which she did.