Taking Root
The next morning, kitchen smoke woke me.
Tyler stood at the stove frying eggs while grease splattered everywhere.
My marble countertop was covered in oil.
"Morning, future sister-in-law."
He sounded friendly, but the metal spatula in his hand was scraping directly across my nonstick pan.
"Tyler, don't use a metal spatula on that pan."
"You'll ruin the coating."
"Yeah, yeah, sure."
He agreed without changing what he was doing.
Marcus came out of the study, saw me frowning in the kitchen doorway, and wrapped an arm around my shoulders.