Brad first picked Olivia up from the hallway, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. He knew she had been watching him, trying to read his mood. Damn, she was probably worried about what punishment awaited her.
"It's all right," he said quietly, no point keeping her in suspense, "you're not suspended."
He thought she'd show more visible relief, but she only lowered her eyes, embarrassed.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"It's okay," he replied softly. "I promised your principal we'd talk about what happened and that hitting classmates is not allowed, so we'll have a discussion at home."
She opened her mouth as if to defend herself but changed her mind.
"All right," she agreed, resigned.
Seriously, am I really about to have a conversation with my fifteen-year-old niece about not using violence? Me? Brad felt probably even more disheartened than she did, but he was the adult here, so he offered a reassuring smile.
Angela was waiting at the end of the hallway and immediately grabbed her sister's hand.
"Are you okay?" she asked with concern. "That jerk…"
Olivia nudged her, and Angela fell silent.
Ah, so this whole situation was some kind of teenage secret. Fine. Brad still remembered what it was like growing up, starting to deal with adult problems—not the biggest ones yet, but serious enough to handle alone, without parents interfering, because they just wouldn't understand. Oh yes, Brad remembered that very well. How many secrets had he kept from his parents and older brother! Or at least, he thought he had so many—when he grew up, it turned out the whole town, hell, the entire county, had known about some of his "secret" antics.
"All right, girls, the autumn is warm, so how about some ice cream?"
"Ice cream?" Angela looked surprised.
"Yeah, we'll go to an ice cream shop, sit down at a table, and have some."
"I prefer the ones from the supermarket," Olivia muttered. "No point in wasting money."
"Really? I thought you liked the ones from the shop."
"We're not little kids anymore, you know?" Olivia reminded him. "Besides, we have to do some shopping anyway."
"I'm making pork chops for dinner today, so we need to buy some meat," Angela added.
"But—"
"Uncle, come on, you prefer beer over ice cream anyway."
That was hard to argue with, but…
"All right," he didn't insist. Apparently, the girls weren't in the mood for such an outing. Neither was he, to be honest. "We'll stop by the supermarket. You can pick whatever ice cream you like."
"I wonder what kind of ice cream Dr. Stone likes," Angela mused as she walked ahead. "Or maybe he prefers beer too?" She turned around and looked at her uncle questioningly.
"Don't ask me. I don't know the guy."
"You spent the whole evening with him," Angela pointed out. "In a bar, no less. How could you not notice whether he likes beer?"
"Don't ask him," Olivia grumbled. "Uncle isn't very observant."
"Hey! We were there on duty! The doc was treating an injured guy. There was no time for drinking anything."
They had reached Stacy's car.
"But he's our new housemate," Angela noted, settling into the back seat. Olivia sat next to her. "You don't want one of us to ask him what kind of alcohol he likes, do you?"
"God forbid!" Brad genuinely shuddered. "Not Dr. Stone, not any other grown man. No men at all. No alcohol until you're of age."
Carefully, he pulled onto the main road, merging into the slow-moving traffic. One of the girls giggled. He glanced at the rearview mirror. Angela was suppressing laughter, seeing her sister staring gloomily out the side window.
Brad sighed inwardly. The principal had said Olivia had some issues. Brad couldn't change what had happened to their parents, he couldn't replace their mother, but…
"How about visiting your dad?" he asked, dividing his attention between the rearview mirror and the road.
Angela's face lit up with an enthusiastic smile, but Olivia turned even further away.
Ah, Brad thought.
"Maybe this weekend…"
"I want to!" Angela was eager.
"Olivia?"
"I have a lot of studying to do," she muttered.
So, a definite no. He couldn't blame her. Sensitive teenagers had enough of their own problems without adding parental issues into the mix. He wouldn't push it.
"You don't mind if I go with Angela?"
"No. I'm fifteen already. I can stay home alone."
"Alright. We'll talk about it again as the weekend gets closer."
"I'm sorry you had to leave work because of me." Olivia, visibly relieved, glanced in the rearview mirror, and their eyes met. "Was there a lot of work at the shipyard?"
"Uh... the shipyard thing didn't work out," he explained awkwardly. "I picked up a temporary job at Aunt Sally's. She could use a pair of strong, young hands," he added with a smile.
"Really? Wow! I'd love to gain experience in a real restaurant too! Do you think she'd hire me for the summer?"
Olivia didn't share her sister's enthusiasm. She bit her lower lip. She probably understood a lot more than Angela. She probably already grasped the complicated matters of adults.
"Who knows?" Brad replied to Angela. "There's still a long way to go until summer."
"I'd love to work in a restaurant someday..." Angela gazed dreamily out the side window.
Even though they were twins, they were completely different. Well, maybe not completely. They had both become very practical, very down-to-earth. Brad did his best to make up for the absence of their mother, but the girls had to grow up faster than their peers and take on some responsibilities. Angela, who had loved helping their mom since childhood, naturally and willingly took care of the house. Olivia was more of a thinker than a doer, so she took charge of budgeting and strategies for dealing with social workers who monitored how their temporary guardian was handling his duties.
Well, without their help, he probably wouldn't be managing at all. After all, the role of a parent had been thrust upon him so suddenly that he was completely unprepared for it.
"So, what's on the side with the cutlets today?" he asked, smiling at the girls.
"With cucumber salad, of course!" Angela announced enthusiastically. "Someday, I'm going to open a restaurant where I'll make dishes using Grandma's recipes!"
"Actually, your great-grandma's," Brad corrected her. "Your grandma learned to cook from her mother-in-law."
"Really?"
"Really. When your grandma—my mom—was working, my grandma—your great-grandma—took care of her kids. So, I learned a thing or two from her as well."
"You know, I have to admit, for a guy, you cook really well."
"Thanks. But did you know that the greatest chefs in the world are men?"
"That's not true!" Angela protested.
"It's true," Olivia commented.
"Really?" Angela asked with such disappointment that Brad couldn't help but laugh.
"Your competition just doubled. You better watch out for your fellow chefs!"
"…" Angela gave him a sulky look.
There was no time for further discussion, though, because Brad was just parking at the supermarket, and the girls practically jumped out of the car immediately. They were both very sharp and, unfortunately, mature beyond their years. He really wished they could still hold on to their innocent childhood, but some things were just beyond his control.
Their shopping trip went smoothly. The twins chose what to buy with more care than Brad would have, and then, while he was still paying, they ran outside with the bags. He was just collecting the receipt when he heard some commotion near the store entrance. Instinctively, he looked in that direction and saw Angela standing face-to-face with Jonathan Anders.
Brad felt his blood turn to ice…