Page 31 of Holiday Hire

"A week?" Wilder spouts.

"Would two be better?" I ask.

He huffs. "Fine. A week."

"Great. Problem solved. Go brush your teeth so you can get to school on time," Phoebe commands.

The boys obey.

"That was a good idea," I praise her, impressed with her quick thinking.

She beams. "I figured a once-a-month debate was better than daily."

I grunt. "That's the truth."

She scrunches her forehead and glances around the room. "There's not a lot in the kitchen to make the boys' lunches."

Guilt hits me. I rely too much on my parents, but I don't have time for grocery shopping, so I admit, "My mom makes it for them."

"Ah. I see."

I try to explain. "I'm working all day, and when I get to town, it's typically for work stuff, so the grocery isn't a priority since my kids won't starve when my parents' place is right next door."

Phoebe nods. "Gotcha."

I continue to babble. "They get all the food they need. Promise I'm not starving my kids."

"Nope! They definitely aren't malnourished."

"My mom's a way better cook anyway. I'm good with horses, not stoves and such. Well, unless you want to see my microwave skills. I have mad microwave skills."

What the heck is wrong with me?

Shut up!

I take my cowboy hat off and scratch my head.

Humor fills Phoebe's expression. "I'll remember that the next time I need popcorn. But, since your mom won't be here over the next few months, is it okay if I grab some groceries when I drop them off today?"

"Well, you're only here for a week," I remind her.

Her face falls.

I'm hit with a stab of guilt. I don't usually try to be a dick when it comes to anyone. And it's not Phoebe's fault that my family has it all wrong about me.

She quickly recovers with a smile and chirps, "Still, I'd like to make a few things, and I can freeze some as well."

I stare at her.

She leans closer and lowers her voice. "I'll even show you the trick to reheating something in the oven."

I laugh. "I'm not that bad."

"Good to know. I've got the go-ahead on getting groceries, then?" she asks.

The stubborn part of me wants to say no, but having a kitchen full of food is nice. It's been several months since I could do a grocery run. So I cave. "If you want to. Let me get you a credit card."

"Perfect!" she exclaims.

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