“Bumming a meal off Mr. Broody-Hot,” Mikey scarily answered. “I’m famished.”
Isabella, mind scrambled near to panic at the very idea of Mikey sharing a meal with Prentice and his family without a variety of other distractions available to Prentice, Sally, Jason and Mikey, opened the backdoor and grabbed one of the bags of groceries she’d bought (it was early enough for her to intervene in takeaway and she fully intended to do it).
“You’d be bumming a meal off me,” she told Mikey. “I bought the food and I’m saying no, you can’t stay.”
Mikey reached in, grabbed the other bag then threw the door to. “You can’t say no, it isn’t your house.”
“You can’t stay,” Isabella retorted, standing out in the crisp, chill air and perfectly willing to stand out there until Christmas if it took that long to talk him out of staying for dinner.
“Why on earth not?” Mikey enquired.
Mikey loved her unreservedly. Isabella had no problems being honest with Mikey.
“Because you can be unpredictable,” she answered.
Mikey mixed with Prentice mixed with Sally, for God’s sake. That was a recipe for disaster.
He grinned at her. “Life’s a lot more fun that way.”
Life was never fun at all in Isabella’s estimation.
He started marching to the door, Isabella’s panic escalated, she opened her mouth to protest but the door opened and Sally shot out of it, screeching, “You’re home!”
Oh dear.
Sally entered the mix.
Sally came to a skidding halt and stared at Isabella.
“I love your outfit!” she shrieked.
“And I love this child,” Mikey muttered.
Isabella gave him an “I told you so” look. Mikey smiled.
Sally started her dash again, collided with Isabella and threw her arms around Isabella’s thighs.
Isabella steadied her body and allowed herself to let the sweet feeling of Sally’s hug wash over her.
“She can hardly make you dinner if you hold her captive on the front walk, darling,” Mikey drawled but the smile was still on his face and his eyes were on Sally.
He said this just as Prentice hit the door.
Wonderful.
Prentice was now in the mix.
Sally threw her head back and yelled, “You’re making dinner? Again! Hurrah!”
“Only if you haven’t had something,” Isabella answered, ignoring Prentice.
Sally disengaged but caught Isabella’s hand, explaining, “Daddy was just going to order takeaway.” She saw her father and shouted, “Daddy! Mrs. Evangahlala’s home in time to make dinner!”
“I heard,” Prentice replied dryly. “The village heard and we live five miles away.”
They’d come abreast of Mikey and Sally leaned toward him and whispered loudly, “Daddy thinks I can be loud sometimes.”
“Only way to be heard,” Mikey replied blandly.