Chương 6
Alexander put his phone away and spent the next twenty minutes pretending he had not expected more.
Saturday morning, he arrived at the Bennett house at eight fifty-eight carrying a paper bag from a bakery he had passed twice because he had missed the turn.
The house was a modest two-story brick place on a street filled with bare trees, basketball hoops, recycling bins, and vehicles that looked as though they had been purchased for practical reasons.
A pink bicycle lay on its side near the front steps.
Someone had drawn a lopsided snowman in chalk on the driveway despite the absence of snow.
Alexander stood at the door longer than necessary.
He had entered homes in foreign countries under armed escort with less hesitation.
Then the door flew open.
Sophie shouted, “He came.”
Alexander had just enough time to step backward before she launched herself toward him.
He caught her under the arms.
“Good morning.”
“You’re two minutes early.”
“I’m aware.”
“That means you really wanted to come.”
“That is not how clocks work.”
“It is at our house.”
Claire appeared in the hallway wearing jeans, a gray sweater, and an expression of profound resignation.
“I tried to explain that guests usually knock.”
“I was going to.”
“She saw you through the window.”
“There has apparently been surveillance.”
“We’re addressing it.”
Sophie twisted in Alexander’s arms.
“Mom said not to tackle you.”
“Your mother is wise.”
Claire pointed at Sophie.
“Feet.”
Sophie sighed dramatically.
Alexander set her down.
The house smelled like coffee, butter, and something slightly burned.
Claire noticed him noticing.
“The first pancakes died.”
“Died?”
“Grace was in charge of the timer.”
Grace called from the kitchen, “The timer was wrong.”
“The timer is an innocent appliance,” Claire called back.
“It betrayed me.”
Alexander stepped inside.
Emma appeared at the foot of the stairs.
She wore sweatpants and an oversized college sweatshirt, and unlike Sophie, she did not look openly delighted to see him.
“Hi.”
“Morning.”
She looked at the bakery bag.
“What’s that?”
“I wasn’t sure what people bring to pancake breakfast.”
“So you brought food to a meal where we already have food.”
“Yes.”
Emma nodded.
“That actually makes sense here.”
Lily came running from the kitchen with pancake batter on one sleeve.
“Did you bring donuts?”
“Croissants.”
Her face fell.
“That is almost donuts.”
Grace followed with a whisk in one hand.
“No, it isn’t.”
“You don’t know.”
“I know shapes.”
Claire took the whisk away from Grace before somebody lost an eye.
Alexander removed his coat.
He was wearing a dark blue sweater over a collared shirt and immediately felt overdressed.
Claire noticed.
“You own civilian clothes.”
“Several.”
“I wasn’t sure.”
“I also own a toaster.”
Sophie gasped theatrically.
Emma rolled her eyes.
Claire laughed.
Alexander hated how much he liked hearing it.
The kitchen was crowded before breakfast had even begun.
Pancake batter covered part of the counter.
A bowl of strawberries sat beside a box of cereal.
One cabinet door refused to stay shut and had been secured with a blue rubber band.
Claire moved around the room with the efficient chaos of someone managing six tasks while completing four.
Alexander tried to help and was immediately handed a spatula.
“You volunteered by standing near the stove,” Claire said.
“I did no such thing.”
“That’s how kitchens work.”
“I dispute the doctrine.”
“You can file an appeal.”
Sophie dragged a chair closer.
“I can flip.”
“No,” three sisters and Claire said simultaneously.
Sophie frowned.
Alexander looked down at her.
“Chain of command.”
She considered that.
“Can I be in charge of chocolate chips?”
Claire sighed.
“You already are, apparently.”
Breakfast took forty minutes because Grace wanted perfectly round pancakes, Lily kept stealing strawberries, Emma refused syrup and then complained that everyone else used too much, and Sophie made Alexander cut one pancake into the shape of a star.
He failed.
“That’s Texas,” Emma said.
“It is not Texas.”
“It looks like Texas.”
“Texas has a panhandle.”
Lily pointed at the pancake.
“That burned part can be the panhandle.”
Alexander stared at the plate.
“I have led complex multinational exercises.”
Claire covered her mouth with one hand.
Sophie poked the pancake.
“And now you made Texas.”
Something unfamiliar loosened in Alexander’s chest.
Not happiness exactly.
It was too early for a word that large.
It was more like the absence of vigilance.
Nobody needed him to decide anything important.
Nobody was waiting for an order.
A fork fell.
Milk spilled.
The cabinet door escaped its rubber band and swung open.
Claire swore under her breath when pancake batter landed on her sock.
Alexander laughed before he could stop himself.
She looked at him.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You laughed.”
“I’m permitted.”
“I’m documenting it.”
Emma was the one who became quiet afterward.
Alexander noticed because the others did not.
She cleared plates without being asked and carried them to the sink.
When Claire told her to leave them, Emma said she did not mind.
Her shoulders were too tight.
Alexander waited until Sophie and Lily began arguing about whether cartoons counted as educational television.
Then he walked toward the sink.
Emma rinsed a plate.
“You don’t have to help.”
“Neither do you.”
“I live here.”
“That is a compelling legal distinction.”
She glanced at him.
“Are you always like this?”
“Unfortunately.”
Emma put another plate beneath the water.
After a moment, she said, “Mom got an email.”
Alexander did not answer immediately.
He picked up a dish towel.
“About what?”
“Work.”
“Did she tell you?”
“No.”
“Then maybe it’s hers to talk about.”
Emma scrubbed at a spot already clean.
“I saw her crying in the laundry room.”
Alexander folded the towel once.
Then again.
“She thought we were asleep.”
“What did the email say?”
“I don’t know.”
“You checked?”
Emma stiffened.
“I’m not a little kid.”
“That wasn’t an accusation.”
She turned off the faucet.
“Mr. Daniels came over last night.”
Alexander’s attention sharpened.
“Did Mercer?”
May you like
“No.”
“Did your mother ask Daniels to come?”
