“What’s that?” Tavvy asked, his eyes big.
“This,” said Aline. “Is a frittata. And you’re all going to eat it.” She slammed it down into a metal trivet in the center of the table.
“Don’t like frittata.” said Tavvy.
“Too bad,” said Aline, crossing her arms and glaring at each of them in turn. “You made Helen cry yesterday, so you’re going to eat this frittata— which, by the way, is goddamn delicious— and you’re going to like it. It’s what’s for breakfast, and since I’m not Helen, I don’t care if you starve or eat Cheetos for every single meal. Helen and I both have a lot of work to do, the Clave isn’t giving us an inch, all she wants is to be with you guys, and you are not going to make her cry again. Understood?”
Dru and Tavvy both nodded, wide-eyed.
“I’m very sorry, Aline,” said Cristina in a small voice.
“I didn’t mean you, Cristina.” Aline rolled her eyes. “And where’s Ty? I’m not repeating this lecture again.” She flared at Kit. “You’re the one glued to his side. Where is he?”
“Probably sleeping,” said Kit. [..]
“Fine. Tell him what I said when he wakes up. And put the frying pan in the freaking sink when you’re done with breakfast.” Aline grabbed her jacket off the back of a chair, slid her arms into the sleeves, and stalked out of the room.
Kit braced himself for either Tavvy or Dru to start to cry. Neither of them did. “That was pretty cool,” said Dru, helping herself to some frittata, which turned out to be a mixture of eggs, sausage, cheese, and caramelized onions. “I like the way she stood up for Helen.”
|Queen of Air and Darkness, p. 154-155
We do too, Dru. We do too.
Linette & KJM
