Page 103 of Keepsake

“He found a toy that I forgot here. My toy, Lo. Not his.”

She clearly left out the part when she did something to fix Lachlan’s mistake. But Logan just smiled, hitching Lachlan up in her arms.

Dash groaned.

“You know it.” Logan wiggled her eyebrows at Vienna.

I chuckled too, making my father watch us all with curiosity. I shook my head and pointed at Vienna. “Just watch,” I told him.

“Until Vienna learns how to share…” Logan explained, but it was quickly stopped by Vienna’s singing.

“Vienna needs to sing the most annoying song,” Dash explained to Papá, talking over the noise.

It was one from a silly cartoon Lachlan liked. I had to go with Dash on that one. The tune was like chewing gum and got stuck in the brain. In the cartoon version, the voice was sickly sweet and high. Vienna’s rendition was loud and impossible to miss.

“This happens too many times,” Dash told Logan. “You can’t punish us all.”

“Complain one more time and I’ll find a song for you to sing,” Logan threatened.

He held back a smile, and when Vienna finished her awful song about sharing, Papá clapped, still confused about what was happening.

“You like that one, buddy?” Logan asked, tickling Lachlan’s side.

But he shook his head and said “Lo” really low on her neck. Logan rubbed his back and told Vienna, “I think your brother needs an apology.”

Vienna didn’t miss a beat. “I’m sorry, Lach,” she said. “Let’s go and I’ll show you how to play.”

Lachlan moved, glancing at Vienna and then Logan. “Go,” Logan whispered.

He wiggled out of her hold, Vienna held a hand to him, and they left. Logan then turned to Dash. “Go see what the toy is. Vienna thinks literally anything belongs to her.”

Dash waved her away. “Yeah, yeah.”

“I’m finding you a song,” she told his back.

Brushing her hair off her face, she fixed her green eyes on Papá. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Castillo. I’m trying to get Vienna to share but…”

“Children,” he said, waving her off.

“Children,” she agreed.

I was going to drag her away, offer her a drink when a throat cleared. Mamá was in the kitchen door, watching us with an expression impossible to decipher.

“Hi, Mamá.”

“Café.” She finally uttered a word. “Would anyone like coffee?”

My father moved, nodding, and I went after him. “Or something stronger?” I asked Logan with a smirk.

“Don’t start.” She shook her head.

“Or you’ll give me something to sing about?”

Logan blinked, taking a second to reply, then she chuckled and followed me down to the kitchen. “We are so weird,” I heard her say.

My hands closed in a fist, and I didn’t reach for her. Dash was right, even if I didn’t want to admit it. I needed to keep the touches to a minimum.

So, I slowly breathed the air out of my lungs, stepped into the kitchen and asked if there was anything I could do to help.

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