Chasing Abby(41)

A knock at the door startles me. “Who is it?” I call out, scrambling toward the desk in the corner where the jeans and T-shirt I was wearing yesterday are neatly folded.
“It’s me.”
I sigh with relief at the sound of Caleb’s voice. “Come in.”
He pushes the door wide open and smiles when he sees me. “Good morning.”
“Close the door. I have to change.”
He looks confused. “With me in here?”
“No, of course not. Go wait outside.”
He cocks an eyebrow as his gaze slides from my face and down the length of my body. “I’ll be right outside,” he says with a sly grin, “using my X-ray vision.”
“Get out of here.”
Once I’ve changed out of the pajamas I borrowed from Claire, I come out of the bedroom and find Caleb having a conversation with Junior about cars. Junior nods at me, his way of saying good morning, I guess.
“Good morning. Is everyone awake?”
“Yeah, except Ryder. As usual.” He looks to Caleb, his eyes wide. “Hey, we should go cover him in shaving cream and post a video of it on Facebook.”
Caleb pats his arm. “You’re on your own there, man.”
Junior’s shoulders slump, but he follows closely behind us as we head downstairs. Jimi, Claire, and Chris are in the kitchen cooking what smells like bacon and waffles. Chris is ladling batter into a waffle iron while Jimi fries the bacon in an iron skillet. Claire is unloading the clean dishes from the dishwasher. Junior heads straight for the breakfast bar, not bothering to offer his help as he grabs the remote and turns on the TV/computer.
“Is there anything we can help with?” I say.
Chris turns away from the waffle iron. “Hey, there. Good morning.”
“Good morning, Abby,” Claire says, smiling at me as she stacks up some plates in a cupboard.
Chris nudges Jimi’s arm and I can hear her sigh before she turns her head to flash me a stiff smile. “Good morning.”
“Sweetheart, we don’t need any help,” Claire says, grabbing the utensil tray out of the dishwasher. “You two just sit down and relax. Breakfast is almost ready. Chris’s famous waffles.”
“That’s lame, Mom. Not everything Dad makes is famous,” Junior says as he flips through the TV channels.
“He made you, didn’t he?” she replies.
Junior scrunches up his face in disgust. “Gross. Can we please save the sex talk for after breakfast?”
Jimi laughs at this and I cover my mouth to hide my smile, but Caleb lets out a brief guffaw. Claire and Chris glare at Junior, unimpressed.
“You’re lucky your brother isn’t here, or you’d be grounded,” Claire says. “Now set the table.”
Junior rolls his eyes then heads into the kitchen to grab some plates, glasses, and silverware. I offer to help him, but he refuses, nodding toward his parents to imply they’d be upset if he enlisted my help.
Once the table is set, Junior sits on the other side of Caleb while Claire sits on my other side. Chris sits next to Claire and Jimi sits between him and Junior.
“How about Ryder?” I ask.
“He’ll eat when he wakes up. I try not to wake the kids up too early in the summer.”
“You didn’t mind waking me up this morning,” Jimi says, cutting a piece of waffle and stabbing it with her fork.
“That’s because you’re grounded, and part of being grounded is losing privileges, like waking up late,” Claire replies.
Jimi doesn’t respond, so Chris leans over and whispers something in her ear. Her nostrils flare as she purses her lips together, trying to maintain her composure. But tears begin to well up in her eyes and she throws down her fork on the plate and rises from the table, storming out of the breakfast nook without another word.