The Twenty Year Triangle

Chapter Twenty-Seven

"Not all the animals!" Harley leads the way into the kitchen as Hunter and I follow him in.

Oliver looks up and holds up the phone that he picked up from the table. "Found it."

Harley dashes into the bathroom and Hunter goes over to the counter, pretending to study the food I have out and prepped. The tension in here is so thick I could use it for gravy.

Oliver and I stand there momentarily, staring at each other silently. It's weird not knowing what to say to him, of all people. The one I spent hours talking to about everything, from imaginary lands and less scary endings in books to college plans and real-life dreams.

"I can tell you what happened on the calls, and what I know tomorrow," Oliver finally says. "You want me to come over?"

"I'll come by the bookstore in the afternoon," I offer. "I need to give your dad that apology I owe him anyway."

"It's fine, really," Oliver says dismissively.

"That's for James to decide," I retort.

"Well, if you're apologizing with those muffins you were talking about earlier..." Oliver hints, and I smile.

"Blueberry?" I guess.

"With apple butter?" he prompts with a slight grin.

"Shit, I got to check on that!" I say urgently as I rush to the stove, and un-lid it in a panic.

"Darlin, your mama told you a million times. Once it's on simmer, pour yourself some wine; you have six hours. You don't gotta worry." Hunter is standing and getting me a wine glass from the cabinet as he speaks.

"I know, but you can't say that to a worrier," I give it a quick stir and find the consistency smooth and perfect. It smells amazing, too. He hands me a chilled wine after he pours it, and I take a nice slow sip before setting it down.

"I'll leave you to it then. See you tomorrow," Oliver says.

"Okay, thanks again. Bye, Oliver," I say as I take one more peek to make sure the apple butter is still okay, then re-lid it.

"Have a nice night, Oliver," Hunter says politely but with a hint of dismissiveness to it.

"I washed my hands, Kinsey. Can I help you?" Harley asks as he emerges from the bathroom, holding his dripping-wet hands.

"You forgot to dry your hands," Hunter laughs as he stands up. "Come over here. I'll help you."

He crosses behind me to grab the towel from the fridge and our hips brush.

"Once you have my assistant dried up, bring him over," I direct as I start living up the counter with bowls, I got ready earlier: Buttermilk with a little hot sauce, flour seasoned with seasoning salt, crunched up saltines, and finally an egg yolk whipped up.  "You ready to work, Harley?"

"Yes, ma'am!" Harley chirps.

"You know country fried chicken is one of Daddy's favorite foods?" Hunter asks as he dries the little boys' hands.

"I did!" Harley agrees. "It's mine, too."

"Well, no one makes it better than Kinz, so she is the best one to show you," Hunter says as he ruffles his hair.

"One assistant chef coming up!" Hunter declares as he picks a giggling Harley up and brings him to me. We all laugh as he sets him down on the counter.

"Wow, exactly what I ordered but even cuter," I giggle. I am so happy this little guy is here to distract me from all this Julian crap.