I slowly turn my head left then right, studying my hair in the mirror. Perfect. Not a curl out of place.
"Eira!" Mom calls outside my room this time. "Downstairs now. You need to eat before you go to school."
"Alright, I'm coming!"
I give myself one last look over, straightening the collar of my uniform before leaving the bathroom. Making my way to my desk, I pick up my phone to check for messages as I swing my backpack over my shoulder. That's when I notice Cookies' open cage. I had let her out this morning. Shoot.
"Cookies!" I call. After a moment of silence, I call again.
This time, I can hear Cookies scrambling about under my bed. Setting my backpack and phone back down, I make it to the bed as Cookies pokes her nose out from under my bed. Kneeling, I lift the skirt of the bed. Cookies blinks up at me, nose twitching.
"Come on girl," I say as I reach out, pulling her from under the bed. She tries to hop away but I pick her up before she can get far. "Sorry, Cookies, but I have to go to school." I plant a kiss between her ears as I carry her to her cage. Setting her down before the door, I give her a gentle push on the rump. "Go on." Cookies thumps to let me know she's upset but complies. Once she's in, I shut the door behind her.
"Eira!" Mom yells this time.
I quickly dash for my backpack and phone, doing my best to pluck any white rabbit hairs from my black blazer. "Coming!"
Outside my room, Mom stands by the stairs, turning to go down then when she sees me coming. "If you want to take that long in the morning-"
"I need to get up earlier," I finish her sentence, trotting down the stairs after her. "I forgot I let Cookies out. She didn't want to go back into her cage."
"Eira, what have I said about letting Cookies out on school mornings?"
"Don't."
"Exactly." She pauses suddenly in the doorway to the family dining room. After a moment she sighs. "All my children are going to be problematic this morning."
"I promise you, Mother, it's not as bad as it looks," Harvey responds. "It's barely more than a scratch."
"A scratch you need Donovan to patch up for you?" Mom's disapproval is clear in her voice.
I walk past her into the dining room. Sure enough, Harv sits at the table with Don bent over, bandaging his arm.
Don glances up, smiling at me. "Morning, Eira. Mother, if you want to lecture someone, go lecture, Dom. Just let me work."
"So, it was Dominick's fault?" Mother inquires.
Harv considers for a second. "Was his aim bad, yes, but it could have been good."
I drop my backpack on a chair. "Did it hurt?"
"Yes. Very much."
"Good. That will teach you to not get caught next time," Mother snaps. "Besides, scratches aren't supposed to hurt, so come up with something better. Eira, get breakfast."
"Alright, I'm back," Dom calls as he walks into the dining room. "You should be in the clear."
"Dominick," Mother snaps, "You need to be more careful. How could you be so careless?"
Dom gapes at Mom as I move toward the kitchen. "I'm the careless one? I was on duty! He wasn't supposed to be there!"
"Speculation," Slade says, walking in. "It was dark, no one could see well. You can't prove it was Harvey who was there."
I turn from the cereal cabinet in time to see Dom pinch the bridge of his nose. "I don't need your lawyer nonsense right now. I need Harv to give me a heads up if he intends to try to steal something from under the police's nose."
"You cannot prove it was Harvey-"
"Just shut up."
"What's everyone doing in the kitchen this morning?" Snider's voice fills the air as I pour a bowl of cereal.
I look up as Snider and Dad walk into the kitchen. Dad pauses, taking in Harv and Don at the table. "Who shot Harv?" He asks.
"Speculation," Slade interjects. "You cannot prove that his wound is from-"
"It is my medical opinion that this wound was caused by a bullet," Don calls.
Silence hangs in the air for a second before Slade points at him. "I want that striked from the record."
"Sustained," Mother says as she shakes her head. "Enough of this. Unless you're here to get food, out," she orders.
"I would like an exception until I'm done here," Don interjects.
"Fine, everyone else, out." No one moves. She sighs again. "Just get food."
"Done with this?" Snider asks as he grabs the cereal box, not even waiting for a response.
I finish spooning the bite into my mouth before responding. "No."
Snider pauses in putting the box away for a moment before sliding it into its spot and shutting the cabinet. "Too bad. Milk?" He glances back over his shoulder as he moves toward the fridge.
I just nod in response. Of all the boys, I was defiantly the closest to Snider. It probably helped that we had the smallest age gap, but he had also been the one to go the most out of his way to make the Farley house feel like home. He sets the milk on the countertop and slides it to me, not even bothering to make sure I catch it before going back to rummaging through the fridge.
I can hear Mom and Dad murmuring in Italian behind me, but I keep my attention on my food. Like the boys, I had learned Italian, but we all also knew better than to listen in when Mom and Dad were speaking quietly. That was one of the few surefire ways to get in trouble. It was also just a rule of respect that was in the house. Hushed conversations were private conversations. You didn't eavesdrop on them. Just about everything else was free game though.
"We have a problem, Mother," Sebastian calls as he walks through the far door, eyes on his phone. "Gregory just texted me that-" Head now up, his eyes flick around the full kitchen and dining room. "Why is everyone here right now?"
"Figlio, I need to make sure Eira leaves on time for school. Can it wait?" Mom asks pointedly.
Sebastian thinks for a moment before crossing the kitchen to her and handing over his phone. Mom accepts it, reading over whatever Greg had sent to Sebastian. Considering her darkening expression, the answer to her question was no.
Dad reaches out, placing a hand on her arm. "Take care of it. I got Eira."
Mom presses a quick kiss to his cheek. "Grazie amore." Sebastian takes his phone when she holds it out to him, turning on his heel. Mom goes to follow, stopping when she reaches me. Reaching out, she gently pushes a stray lock behind my ear. "I'll see you when you get home."
"Bye mom," I call after her as she leaves.
"Hey," I look over at Dad's call. "Ready in three or I drive you to school."
I gape at him. "I still have five minutes before I need to leave."
Dad just holds up three fingers. Huffing, I turn back to my cereal.
Five minutes later, I'm shoving my water bottle into the side holder of my backpack. Why I had taken it up to my room last night was beyond me, but at least I had remembered I had taken it there. As I sling my backpack over my shoulder, I notice Dad watching with a smirk. He just holds up three fingers again. I stick my tongue out at him before I turn to trot to the garage.
YOU ARE READING
Gilded Apples
General FictionWhen Eira's stepmother tries to get rid of her, the assassin makes a different call. Overnight Eira goes from a single child to the youngest of seven. And it's not just Eira and her new father with a secret double life. Good thing the Farleys always...