Four of them. Enormous. Hard-shell.
“You didn’t even ask how long you could stay,” I said.
Ezoic
“A week,” Melissa said casually. She swirled the Margaux in her glass. “Maybe longer.”
She took a sip.
“The kids need a break,” she said.
My father nodded from the couch. Without looking away from the Braves game.
As though the matter had been settled.
I wanted to tell them to leave.
Right then. Right there. Get back in your cars. Drive back to wherever you came from. Find a hotel.
Ezoic
But Poppy was sitting on the stairs. Holding her stuffed rabbit. Her eyes half-closed. Her head leaning against the banister.
And Jonah was asleep on the living room rug. Curled up next to his stuffed shark. His thumb in his mouth.
Two exhausted children. Who’d been in a car for nine hours. Who didn’t ask to be here. Who didn’t open my Château Margaux.
