“Slumberrrrrrr Partyyyyy!” Ian yells, bursting in the back door of Victor’s house, a huge backpack of toys and pillows on his back. He spreads his arms out and zooms around the kitchen, pretending to be an airplane. Alvin follows his brother, laughing, his arms equally filled with supplies. Beta Ed
“I love it so much, daddy!” Ian says, climbing to the top bunk of the new bed, which is designed to look like a rocket ship. The rest of the room continues the space theme, with black walls decorated with glow-in-the-dark stickers that will light up in the shape of constellations overnight. “Thank
It’s two o’clock in the morning, and I can’t sleep. I sigh and sit up. I’ve tried everything I can think of – lavender oil, a glass of wine, counting sheep - but I just can’t do it. The house is too…quiet. Not that the boys have made much of a disturbance in their sleep since they were babies, but s
“Do you see him?” Ian whispers to Alvin, narrowing his eyes at the man talking to their mother downstairs. “I thought Beta Edgar was our friend,” Alvin replies. “But I don’t like the way he is talking to our mama.” The pair spy through the railings of the second floor. They knew the minute their m
The next morning, Victor fights his exhaustion, giving Annabeth Prath all his attention. “Listen, Victor,” she says, crossing her legs and sitting back in the chair in his office. “I understand that you’re working to bring a lot of…” she pauses, choosing her words, “great things…to our Pack. But,”
“You go ahead of me,” I say, nudging them back towards the stairs, “I’ll be right up. Let me finish talking to daddy.” They scamper off. “So,” I continue, gesturing at all of the party supplies. “What, really, is the deal with all of this? I was just here last night – like, fourteen hours ago, and
The next weekend, the party honoring Annabelle Prath is in full swing in Victor’s back yard. The windows along the back of his house, between the kitchen and the pool, have all been folded back to create one big party area which Amelia has filled with tables, waiters, bars – even a small dance floor
“That’s not enough,” I say. “Two boys, one me. You need three pieces of cake.” Victor laughs and sits down in the chair next to me. “I knew they would be asleep. This is just for you.” I accepts the cake happily and dig in. It is absolutely delicious – the bitterness of the dark chocolate complime