Page 61 of Lethal Legacy

“Snacks. Got it. I may need specifics on your preferred options.” I look at Ofelia and Mickey over Masha’s head.“Do I ask?”I mouth silently.

Ofelia shakes her head violently, her eyes widening, shooting a warning look at Mickey, who turns hastily back to the window so Masha doesn’t see him trying not to laugh.

“Masha loves cut-up fruit,” Ofelia says loudly. “Don’t you, Masha?”

Masha frowns, as if this is news to her, and Mickey jumps in. “Yes, you do, Mash. You like watermelon cut into star shapes, remember?”

“Water stars.” Masha’s face lights up.

“Ah.” I nod sagely. “Then water stars it is.” We drive down the highway, the kids bickering amongst themselves about what they do, and don’t, consider vital staples for the kitchen cupboard.

Catching my eye in the mirror, Luis gives me a conspiratorial grin.

With Masha perched inside the shopping cart, and Mickey and Ofelia arguing loudly over what to buy, we descend on the supermarket, the grinning security guys unobtrusively behind us.

“We have a crisis,” I say sotto voceto Mickey and Ofelia as we near the end of the fruit section. I nod at the confectionary aisle then at the back of Masha’s head. “Something tells me that’s the danger zone.”

They nod vigorously. “She’sterrible,” Ofelia whispers back. “If you let her loose in there it will be tears for sure.”

“What do you guys suggest, then?”

Ofelia and Mickey exchange a look. “Maybe we decide on, like, one thing we all like? And get Bryce to get it for us?” Ofelia indicates one of the security guys.

“Smart.” I nod. “So what’s it going to be?” After a brief, hushed conference, the two decide on a particular type of chocolate, and Bryce is sent off to procure it. We make our way down the aisles, Mickey whizzing Masha in circles that make her giggle and the other shoppers smile indulgently.

I put vegetable chips into the cart. “These are my snacks, by the way,” I say warningly. “Keep your grubby hands off them.”

Mickey grabs a packet and throws them on top of mine. “What if I do this?”

I grab another packet, then dried fruit and mixed nuts. “I’m going to label them.”

Mickey gets the same things, his grin getting cheekier. “Good luck with that.”

I put some flour, condensed milk, butter, and sugar in the cart, and Ofelia eyes them disdainfully. “That stuff issofattening.”

“But it makes amazingalfajores,” I counter. Ofelia raises her eyebrows questioningly. “Argentinian cookies,” I explain. “They’relush.”

She shakes her head. “I’m going to have my work cut out getting you into a smaller dress size.” She glances sideways at me. “Argentinian, huh?Entonces, ¿hablas español correctamente?”So, you speak Spanish properly, then?

“Por supuesto.”Of course.

“Je parle français aussi,” she says challengingly.

I grin. “Peut-être, mais ton accent est horrible.”

“Miss Harrison said my accent was perfect!” She gives me an indignant look.

Mickey snorts. “Miss Harrison was a total kiss-ass.”

“I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear that,” I say primly.

Mickey grins. “Because you’resoworried about language, MissShitface Swizzle Sticks.”All three kids giggle like they’ve said something incredibly naughty.

I cast my eyes skyward. “I should have known that one would come back to bite me on my... ear.” That makes them laugh even harder.

“Anyway,” Ofelia whispers in Russian to Mickey, “they never know when we’re swearing about them in Russian.”

I halt the shopping cart. “Pover’te, ya znayu Russkiye maternyye slova gorazdo khuzhe, chem vy.”Believe me, I know far worse Russian swear words than you.

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