Page 29 of Rumi: The Hawthornes

“I just woke up, asshole.” I reached out to smack him but missed.

“You better get up and shower. You look like crap.”

“Thanks, Firebird. You’re a joy, as always.” I sat up and stretched. At some point during the night, I must have gotten comfortable because most of Nana’s throw pillows were on the ground.

“Covered you up,” Pop said as he came out of the hallway. “But you made the mess.”

“I figured,” I mumbled, folding up the afghan he’d covered me with.

“You were out.” He headed to the kitchen to fill the same travel coffee mug that he’d used for as long as I could remember.

“I don’t even remember falling asleep,” I told him as I picked up all the pillows and threw them on the couch.

“It didn’t take ya long,” he replied with a chuckle. “And I’m gettin’ too old to carry ya into bed, so I left ya there.”

“Yeah, right.” I smiled. “You could still carry me.”

“I don’t know,” Bird said thoughtfully as he packed his book bag at the kitchen table. “Heispretty old.”

I laughed as Pop threw a towel at Bird’s head.

“I could still whoop you, boy,” Pop growled.

“When have you ever whooped me?” Bird asked laughingly, dodging as Pop reached for him. “This hypothesis has never been tested!”

“Bird, you better zip it.” I chuckled. “He’s going to get you.”

“I can outrun him,” Bird countered, backing out of the kitchen with his bag in his arms. “He’s old, remember?”

He laughed hysterically all the way to his bedroom.

“You want some coffee, honey?” Pop asked, lifting the carafe.

I nodded as I dropped down at the table. “Where’s Nana?”

“She’s gettin’ ready. She’s got a shift today.”

“I wish you guys could retire,” I replied with a sigh. They’d spent their golden years with full-time jobs and raising kids that they hadn’t asked for. They deserved it.

“Hell,” Pop said as he handed me a mug of coffee. “I’d still spend all day at the garage. They just wouldn’t be payin’ me for it.”

“That’s true,” I mused.

“Your nana probably won’t work much longer though,” he said, leaning back against the countertop. “Maybe once Bird’s out of the house, she’ll slow down a bit.”

“You talking about me?” Nana asked as she came out of their bedroom, still putting on an earring.

“Just saying you need to retire,” I told her, grinning as she made a disgusted face.

“What the hell would I do if I wasn’t working?” she asked, flicking my ponytail as she passed me. “I’d be bored outta my mind.”

“You could garden,” I said, my lips twitching. “Or volunteer. Or sit around and watch TV.”

“Volunteer,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Let me stop working for pay so I can work for free. I’ll get right on that.”

“You’re so full of it,” I shot back. “You volunteer all the time.”

“I’m not quitting my job to do it!”

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