Page 9 of Sworn to Protect

“We’re in the kitchen, dear.”

I follow Mom’s voice. My stomach growls the moment the vanilla scent assaults my senses. One would think I’d be desensitized to the smell after working in a café, but Mom’s chocolate chip cookies are to die for.

I stave off a laugh when my feet hit the cold linoleum. They’re in the kitchen, all right. Liam and Nick huddle at the breakfast table, munching on their cookie stash. They have a pile stacked infront of them like poker chips. Unbelievable. “You are going to spoil the kids.”

“That’s what I’m here for, dear.”

I beeline to them and kiss them on the head. Their collective hellos warm my heart.

“Did you have fun today?”

“Yes, Stan showed us his medals.”

“Ah, how nice.” My gaze flicks to Mom. She busies herself, taking out another batch from the oven.

“They’re not like Daddy’s,” Nick says.

“There are many different ones. Why don’t you boys grab your stuff and put your shoes on?”

“Can we take the cookies with us?”

Mom chuckles. I’m about to tell them they’ll be back here tomorrow, but Mom beats me to it.

“You can take a few. I’ll bag the rest while you get ready.”

“Yay!” They race out of the room, and I let out a sigh. The topic of military medals completely averted. I need to discuss their dad’s death with them better, but I can’t seem to broach the subject.

“I worry about Liam. He misses his friends.”And his father.

“He’ll make new ones.”

“I suppose.” I steal one of the cookies and take a bite. A moan may have escaped. “God, I’ve missed these. Yours are always the best.”

“Nah, they’re just better when someone else makes them. Have you gotten your sitter situation figured out?”

“Sort of. Do you remember my high school friend, Sandy?”

“Of course. She has kids around Nick’s age.”

“She hasn’t committed yet, but it looks as if she’ll watch them for me during my nightly clinical. I already lined up Millie to help during the day.” Millie being the eighty-two-year-old neighbor. She’s spry but by no means ready to pull a double shift. My boys are good, but get real.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to cancel our trip?”

“No. Stan’s been looking forward to this cruise for over half ayear.” Or longer. That’s all I heard about when they visited last Christmas. They’re taking a dream cruise along the Alaskan coastline. I could never expect them to cancel.

“Are you coming back here for dinner after you pick up the car?”

“No, I better get home.” I have a few things to tidy up before tomorrow if I’m going to have Mr. Fix It come over. “I still need to get organized for school, and I found someone to work on my plumbing issues.”

“You can still have Stanley look at it. He’s notthatbad.”

“Uh-huh. I’m not sure I can afford to have him fix it,” I tease. Back when Mom and I first moved in, Stan installed a filtering system under the kitchen sink. After that debacle, we had to find a new home for the cleaning supplies because nothing would fit underneath the cobbled mess. Pipes and hoses ran in every direction, filling the entire cabinet space. The hefty bill the plumber slapped on Mom to fix Stan’s plumbing blunder was warning enough. Stan’s a talented guy, but a plumber he does not make. I don’t have any other choice but to ask Nate for help. Lord knows I can’t afford a professional right now.

“I know, but the Gallezes don’t return for another couple of months.” She zips the bags closed, sighing heavily. “It must be nice to take a three-month-long vacation every six months or so.”

“You’d be bored. Being stuck on a ship or hotel room, you couldn’t cook or bake.”

“True, but Stan still would’ve helped. Who is the person you can call?”

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