Our kid closed the fridge door, armed with milk, ready-made pancake batter, and a carton of orange juice. He turned to face us but focused on his mother. His grey eyes, which he inherited from me, gleaming mischievously.
“It’s just an expression, Ma.” He winked. “Ye’ know I think you’re beautiful.”
“Beautiful?” I interjected. “Really, Zo? You think slinging a compliment her way is going to get you off the—”
Keela elbowed me in the stomach and cut me off.
“Ye’ think I’m beautiful?” She giggled. “Thanks, son. ‘Ere, let me make your breakfast. I’ll put chocolate chips in your pancakes.”
Enzo leaned his head down and kissed her on the cheek when she moved over to him. “You’re the best, Ma.”
“Punk,” I muttered as he shot a shit-eating grin my way over Keela’s head. “Why didn’t you come running when you heard your mom scream?”
“‘Cause I heard you scream not long after, and I heard the word spider mentioned in the midst of that screamin’. I wasn’t riskin’ me life against a spider for either of ye’, I’m sorry.”
“I’ve never felt such betrayal in all my life,” I said, placing my hand on my chest. “I have no idea how you came from my angelic loins.”
Enzo laughed and nudged by me so he could sit at the kitchen table. I turned to my wife.
“He just had to call you beautiful to get his breakfast made.” I placed my hands on my hips in outrage. “I show you how beautiful you are with this wonderland body of mine, and I get an elbow in the gut. That’s just typical.”
“Hush up. I’ll make ye’ pancakes too.”
“With extra chocolate chips?”
“With extra chocolate chips, big man.”
I perked up. “You’re the best.”
“And ye’ wonder where Enzo gets it from?”
I grinned. “I am nothing if not a great teacher, kitten.”
My wife snorted in response. I leaned down and kissed her neck as she turned to the stove and switched it on. I patted her behind, earning me a giggle, which made me grin. I joined Enzo at the kitchen table and death stared at him as he tapped on the screen of his phone.
“Does your girlfriend still think I’m hotter than you?”
Enzo sighed. “She was never me girlfriend, and she never said ye’ were hotter than me. She said ye’ were hotter than she expected ye’ to be.”
“That’s the story of my life, son. My beauty stuns people; it always has and always will.”
Enzo’s eyes glinted with amusement. “I’m better lookin’.”
“You Slater kids all seem to think that. Jax thinks he’s God’s gift to women, you walk around like your junk is a foot long, and your other cousins are just as bad. Your brothers, too. I don’t know where I went wrong in raising you to give you ugly shits so much confidence.”
Enzo laughed at my obvious joke and so did my wife.
“Me sons are beautiful because I’m their mother,” Keela said as she poured pancake batter into a pan. “Your genes just gave them their height.”
And just about everything else.
“I’m thankful for gettin’ his height,” Enzo said as he leaned back in his chair. “Girls think you’re automatically ten times more attractive if you’re tall. And ten times ten just makes me the hottest specimen at school. Jax wishes he was as sexy as me. Me hair alone makes me stand out.”
Enzo was the only one in the entire family to have red hair like his mother. It was curly too, and because it was so wild, he always styled it and kept on top of keeping the length trimmed so the curls only spiralled once. Even I had to admit he was a beautiful little fucker.
“God save me from overinflated egos,” Keela mumbled.
“Some of your cousins have white hair; do you stand out against them?”
“Yup,” Enzo answered me. “I’m the hottest Slater to have ever existed. Period.”
The logic of a fourteen-year-old never failed to amuse me.
“Keep that confidence, my boy,” I beamed at my son. “A woman will surely cut it in half by the time you’re twenty.”
Keela snickered. “Did I cut yours in half?”
“Woman, you did me dirty when we first met. You dissed everything about me.”
“Yet ye’ wouldn’t leave me alone.”
“Have you seen your legs? You could have waxed me bare and used me for a surfboard, and I wouldn’t have gone anywhere. Your legs give me life, and the rest of your fine ass body accompanied with your stunning face is just a major plus.”
Keela’s ears were red as she made our pancakes.
“Shut up,” she mumbled.
Enzo laughed. “I’m goin’ to me footie match in an hour. I’ll take the boys with me since their match is after mine. Uncle Ry said he’d drive us all in his van. I’ll bring them for food on the way home. Ma already gave me the money.”
That was no small feat. Enzo was our eldest son at fourteen, Murphy was twelve, Ares was eleven, Ace was nine, and Miller was six. Together, they were a handful for Keela and me to deal with, so Enzo offering to take them all out was a parenting win.