Page 63 of Cinnamon Roll Set Up

In the hallway, Georgia’s scrubbing a stain stick over the red splotches on my shirt.

“You don’t have to do that.”

She shoots me a glare without any real fire in it. “Yeah, I do. I came up with the great ‘build our own pizzas’ plan. I should have been more on the ball with Willa.”

“I’m the one who was standing right by her. If anyone fell down in their supervisory duties, it was me.”

She frowns but seems to accept that. “I’ll let this soak in and wash it tonight. Keep your fingers crossed it’s some kind of space-age, no-stain marinara.”

“I should find a way to work that into one of my books. What will technology accomplish next?”

“Credit me in the acknowledgements, please.”

Pizza prep has no further setbacks, and after a while, we’re all sitting around Georgia’s dining table eating our specialty meals. Willa digs into hers like it’s the best pizza she’s ever had, getting sauce smeared across her cheeks. Georgia and I encourage her to at least dab at the damage with a napkin, but she refuses to lose her focus.

Finn shoots annoyed side-eyes at her. I’m not sure howmuch of it is the natural difference in their dispositions, and how much is generic older brother disdain.

“You could at least chew with your mouth closed,” he says to her.

Willa makes a face at him. “Do you want a closer look?”

“That’s enough,” Georgia says gently. “We don’t need to show anybody what’s in our mouths, please.”

“She doesn’t even have to try.” Finn scowls at his sister, who looks ready to take the argument to a physical level.

She’s also got a piece of crust hanging out of her mouth.

“Have you downloaded any new games, Finn?” Usually when we’re playing backgammon, he spends the whole time telling me about hit points or world building in whatever video game he’s currently into.

He abandons the argument with his sister and describes some demolition simulator where the only goal is to destroy all the buildings in-world using ridiculous weapons.

“I’ll show you at Willa’s party tomorrow,” he tells me. “When she’s busy with her girl stuff.”

“Sounds good.”

“I bet Ava’s getting your house so pretty for your party,” Georgia says to Willa.

“She did,” Willa announces. “But I can’t see it yet because it’s a surprise for tomorrow.”

“She already did?”

“Dad says it looks like a unicorn fairyland,” Finn says. “I think it looks like puke on a stick.”

Willa jams out her tongue.

“Then what are they doing tonight?” Georgia asks.

Willa shrugs, focused on her pizza. “Mommy and Daddy are on a date.”

Georgia blinks at her. This obviously isn’t the same information she was given by her dad and stepmom.

“Miles, did you know friends can kiss?”

Willa’s question has me staring like a deer that just stumbled onto an interstate. I look to Georgia for help, but she’s watching Willa with the same alarmed expression I must be wearing.

“I guess they can, yeah.” I have no idea where this conversation is going. Frankly, I’d rather she show me all the chewed up pizza in her mouth.

She scoops a long piece of cheese dangling off the slice into her mouth. “But you and Georgia don’t kiss?”

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