Sinbad had a kink in his back, but Vega didn’t care. “Eva’s getting quite old, and I need a sculptor. Please?”
“Unless Dennis needs some new stairs for the warehouse, ugh, no thanks.”
“You’re just a difficult rotten peach, aren’t you?” asked Vega.
“And you’re a miserable gloom cookie. Go away.”
“I forgot to mention the chainsaw.”
Sinbad called Goodwin with vindictive glee. Yes, evil prevailed, and it was going to live in an awesome mansion on Puddlewick Drive with a chainsaw in its hands.
Though he learned about ice the hard way.
Now that she had a successor for Eva, Vega got to focus on her alchemy a little more. Her last bottles of Invigorating Elixirs were at a rolling boil, like the badly reheated coffee they were meant to replace.
She also had a strange focus on the Knack children. Hugo was their youngest at the time, unaware of the fact that an unborn sister was going to steal all the attention from him within days. Vega adored the little man, and since Julienne’s impending sixth child sapped most of her energy, it was up to Vega to take Hugo off her hands for a few hours.
“The claaaaaaaaaaaaw.”
Vega couldn’t spend all her time focused on her best friend’s children. She couldn’t ignore Screwtape, could she? As much she loved the Knacks, he was her shining star and far more precious.
“Parental unit, are my brownies up to your standards? I cook them at 350 degrees Fahrenheit, as per the recipe. And did you know that the cocoa you buy isn’t actually imported from Sunlit Tides?”
“Yes, dear.” What would she do with that kid?
But maybe she needed the Knack children in her life. They were so young, but Screwtape was entering his teen years.
He took a giant leap, looking at his housemates. He was tired of feeling like the baby of the family.
Screwtape got dressed for the first time as a teenager in his new bathroom right away. His father’s features became far more prominent, especially the sunken eyes, but Screwtape did what he could with it.
“Parental unit! I am experiencing a wardrobe change!”
“Yes son, but I have to go.”
Downstairs, the three girls treated themselves to birthday cake.
“You look gloomier than me,” said Vega to Eva, “Is there anything wrong?”
“Not, well, not really.”
“Is it me?”
“Vega, never in a million years. I’ve been so happy here. Perhaps I’m just tired.”
“But mum, what about dad’s death scare last week that you were crying about?”
“Hush. Auntie Vega bought our favorite type of cake, so eat up,” said Eva before having another bite. Shamus was still alive, but deep down, Eva worried. Neither of them were young, and Eva marveled at how she still woke up each morning as a healthy woman. However, after Shamus had a false alarm over chest pains, Eva feared the day it would become real. She had no choice but to, even with a forkful of white cake with authentic vanilla.
Vega decided to leave the two of them to speak it over, and a part of her wondered how her own elderly husband was doing.