Kids are great until you find them in your kitchen, hair doused in egg yolk and fingers sticking into big bowls of what I hope is flour not sugar. I rush to Wyn before she cracks another egg open, snatching her off the ground and she giggles. Bren looks less of a mess but her hair and body are covered in white as if she bathed in flour. Setting Wyn on the island, I repeat the gesture with Bren, keeping a reasonable gap between them so they don’t have a chance to conspire again. They send each other a look and smile.
Standing between them, I grab the edge of the island and ask, “What were you doing?” My gaze darts between Wyn and Bren, I have a feeling all of this started with Wyn and I arch a brow at her. The cutie giggles to reveal her gap tooth, I shake my head. No, not working. “Wyn?” She pouts. Okay, it’s working but she doesn’t have to know that. “Brenwyn?” I point to the bowls. “What were you doing with that?”
“Cooking,” Wyn answers, her smile big and bright. She must have convinced Bren to do this with her. I move to stand in front of her with a wet napkin, dabbing the egg white that dried on her cheek. “We saw it on TV.” Weaving her fingers into my beards, she pulls out a strand. “He said it’s very easy to do.”
“With an adult around, yes, cooking is very easy.” She twists her neck so I can get a crust on the side, I help her down and she finds her way to the sink. I shoot my infamous glare at Bren. “Don’t try to practice what you see on TV, it could be...” I trail off when her eyes widen with fear, her lower lip juts out. God, no, she’s about to cry. “It could be bad, okay?” I say in a softer voice. She nods, opening up her arms for me to hug her and I lose myself in her embrace, stroking her back until I am certain she won’t tear up. Staring down at my shirt stained with flour, I say, “Let’s get you cleaned up. No more practice.”
“Okay,” Bren answers. She purses her lips, I motion for her to speak up. “Piggyback?”
Wyn giggles behind us, I grant Bren’s request and stalk to the little troublemaker. “And you too, Missy. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Her little hand slips into mine and an invisible weight drops to my shoulders.
I should have been down here with them. What if they had gotten a hold of the knife? A sweep of the kitchen shows only the flour and eggs were harmed in their ‘cooking’. The drawers containing the knives and other utensils are locked but I can’t help feeling like an ass. This is not how to be a father. A good parent will get them out of bed instead of locking himself in to attend to clients. I need a new assistant.
Wyn splashes water on herself with her free hand, I drag her away from the sink and we start for the door. Who let them in here? Lydia stays at the mansion to do the cooking and cleaning because I don’t want them having troubles on that front but she’s allowed here on weekends. It couldn’t have been her, I was the last one to come down here so it still boils down to me and how terrible of a father I am.
“Next time, don’t go into the kitchen without me,” I say, pausing briefly to stare at Wyn. Bren’s arms tighten around my neck, I take that as a positive response and begin the short journey to their room.
“What if we want to drink water?” Wyn asks.
“Call me.”
“What if you are busy?”
“Just call me.”
“But you don’t like being disturbed.”
There’s no winning with this girl.
We stop in front of the door, she peers at me through thick lashes, an innocent smile etched on her lips and my annoyance melts. “How about this? Next time, don’t try to cook without me. Understood?”
“Understood,” she says.
“We were trying to make pancakes for Uncle Joshua,” Bren whispers once we step into their room. I am a bit disappointed at her but more at myself, she usually gets Wyn in order. “Pancakes are his favourite.”
Inside the bathroom, I run a bath for them and she gets into the tub first. Crouching, I bop her nose and she giggles. She rests her head on the edge of the tub, brown eyes on mine. “Are you still mad at us?”
“No.” I am more mad at myself for putting work before my girls. “I can never be mad at you, princess.” Wyn joins her in the tub, I pinch her cheeks. “What’s this I hear about Uncle Joshua and pancakes?”
“He’s coming here.”
“We are learning how to skate,” Bren adds.
Joshua and I have a civil relationship, we check in on each other occasionally but he has never stepped foot in this house. I think he blames me for the breakup, everything is always my fault. And maybe he is right to blame me, I have never tried to explain to him but I suspect he knows the real reason we split. For fuck sake, he keeps in touch with El. They chat and see each other regularly and I am almost certain the only thing stopping him from making a move on her is the twins. He can’t date his sister-in-law.
“Mummy didn’t tell me that.” I only get them for three days, I am not about to share that little time with another person even if that person is my younger brother. “And Joshua doesn’t know how to skate.”
“Yes, he does,” Wyn says with an eye roll, “he has a medal. Two. I want a medal too.” I am forgotten for a moment as she scrubs her sister’s back, Bren returns the favour, I stand to perform my duty of getting their towels. They won’t let me bath them, they are big girls. The thought makes me smile, they are big girls till they need a piggyback ride. “Bren, we should get a medal. Do you want a medal?” Bren hesitates but a pleading look from Wyn has her nodding. Wyn tugs on my index finger. “Daddy, we want medals.”
“You have to win one.”
“We will,” Wyn answers on their behalf, my lips pull into a thin line.
They decline my offer to help them out of the tub, I watch with my hands akimbo as they dash out of the bathroom amid giggles. Their co-dependency amazes and freaks me out at the same time, knowing their bond can be tainted by external influence makes me want to lock them away from the world.
Patting my pockets for my phone, I make a mental note to call Joshua. I don’t know what deal he made with El but the plans are cancelled. I scratch the back of my head, the twins will hate me if I dare to ruin their date but Joshua has no idea the first thing about skating. Since when does he know how to skate?
I meet the girls dressing up and giggling about a boy in their class. Alarm bells go off in my head, I gawk at Wyn gesticulating with her hands, she is smitten by a boy. B-O-Y. Boy. They don’t notice me, I keep it that way, taking all the information they exchange so I know who to scare off or threaten after dropping them off on Monday. No boys for them, now or in the future. They will go to a convent or some place boys have no influence. Marriage will ruin them like it did me. What if their husbands leave them?
Prepared to interrupt their silliness, I take one step forward and the doorbell rings.