4. Ink and Betsy
INK AND BETSY
Betsy ran around trying to find more plates. Where were the rest of the paper plates? She was certain she’d bought plenty of them. But she seemed to be short.
Not good. Not good at all.
She was the hostess. She was meant to be prepared for everything, not running around like an idiot looking for more plates.
Betsy searched through the storage closet, the kitchen cupboards, heck she even checked under the bed.
Where the heck were they? Then she raced through the house toward the garage.
Maybe she’d left a packet in the trunk of the car.
Before she could reach the garage, though, Ink stepped out of his office and grasped hold of her, pulling her close to him.
“Ink! Everyone is going to be here soon! Let me go. I’ve got to finish getting ready.”
Instead of letting her go, he picked her up in his arms and carried her through the house. He walked into the kitchen where Baron, Royal, and Zippy were all sitting at the island, having a snack.
“What are you all doing snacking?” Betsy asked. “We’re about to have a barbecue!”
The boys shrugged.
“We’ll still eat, Ma,” Baron told her. “We’re growing boys.” They both patted their stomachs at the same time.
“And I’m a growing girl!” Zippy said. “But I probably won’t eat any of that barbecue stuff. I’ve decided to be a vegetarian.”
“Wait, you never said anything.” Betsy stared down at the small girl in shock. “I don’t think I have any vegetarian food.”
“What about the vegetarian patties and hotdogs in the fridge?” Ink asked as he set Betsy down on the counter and stood between her open legs.
“Those are for Millie,” Betsy replied.
“Millie is going to eat five vegetarian patties, five vegetarian hotdogs and all of the salads?” Ink asked, his eyebrows rising.
“Don’t worry, Mama,” Zippy told her. “I don’t need any special food. I’m just gonna eat chips and dip.”
Betsy ran her hand over her face. Chips and dip? She couldn’t just live on chips and dip.
Ink leaned in to whisper. “Don’t worry, this is probably just a phase. Just like when she decided she only wanted to eat green things. That stopped pretty quickly.”
“That’s because most green things are vegetables. And she doesn’t like vegetables,” Betsy whispered back.
“You know it’s rude to whisper in front of people. Isn’t it, brother?” Baron told them.
Royal nodded. “Very rude.”
“Just like it’s rude to talk with your mouth full?” Betsy asked dryly.
“That’s definitely rude,” Zippy said before she took a bite of her ham sandwich.
“You know that you’re eating meat right now, don’t you?” Betsy asked her.
“Oh yeah, this is my last piece of meat and then I’m going vegetarian,” Zippy replied.
“You also know you can’t live on just chips and dip? Right?”
“I can’t?” Zippy asked.
“You need good food so you can be big and strong like us, Zippy,” Baron replied, flexing his arm. “See? You don’t get muscles like this from eating just chips and dip.”
Royal nodded.
“Oh, okay, I’ll eat other stuff. But you can eat whatever you like on the Fourth of July, I figure.”
Baron and Royal nodded in agreement. As usual the three of them were all sticking together.
“I’m pretty sure it’s a rule or something,” Baron told her.
“Absolutely,” Royal added.
Betsy gave up. What did it matter if she wanted to eat chips and dip for the day?
It really wouldn’t cause any harm.
“Now that we’ve got that settled, why were you running through the house like you were? You’re going to slip and hurt yourself.” Ink gave her a stern look as he placed his hands on either side of her, resting them on the countertop. Her legs parted further as he stepped closer toward her.
“Yeah, Ma, you shouldn’t be running through the house,” Baron said, pointing his finger at her. “Naughty.”
Betsy gave Ink a quelling look. Then she turned to Baron. “I’m still the mom here, and don’t any of you forget it.”
They all just grinned back at her angelically.
Lord help her.
“We know that, Ma,” Royal told her, wiping his hands on a napkin.
“Of course we do,” Zippy said.
“Absolutely.” Baron nodded.
She didn’t believe any of them. They all thought they were in charge of her. And it was all Ink’s fault.
She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a look.
Ink just stared back at her. “What’s that look about?”
“Because everybody thinks they get to tell me what to do. And it’s your fault.”
Ink pointed at his chest. “Me?”
“Yes, you.”
“No, we don’t, Ma,” Royal said. “We’re just looking out for you.”
“Yeah, Ma.” Baron licked his fingers. “Someone’s got to make sure you do what you’re told.”
Do what she was told?
Zippy nodded. “We always have to do what Dad says.”
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” Ink said as he pointed at Betsy.
“What am I doing?” she asked.
“Trying to distract me from the reason why you were running through the house. In socks. You could have easily slipped and hurt yourself.”
Oh shoot! She’d managed to distract herself.
“The plates!” she cried. “I’m missing a set of paper plates. What are we going to do? We haven’t got enough plates to feed everybody. I knew I should’ve bought two extra sets.”
“Ma, how many people are you expecting?” Baron asked. “Because there looks to be about eighty paper plates there.” He pointed over at the pile of plates sitting on the counter.
“There should be a hundred,” she told him.
“Pretty sure there’s around forty people coming today,” Ink said. “So why would we need a hundred paper plates?”
“Well, somebody might have one serving and then they might want seconds and get a fresh plate. And then there’s dessert!
Or what if some of the plates get destroyed by a rogue firework?
Then they might need another plate. So I figured I needed two or three plates per person.
Actually, now that I think about it, that doesn’t seem like enough. ”
“Okay, Brown Eyes. I need you to take a deep breath. You’re getting stressed and I don’t like it,” Ink told her. “Take a deep breath in. Slowly. One. Two. Three. Now, out. One. Two. Three. Good girl. And again.”
She breathed in and out with his words and felt herself starting to calm.
A flush of embarrassment filled her cheeks.
“I was acting like a crazy person, wasn’t I?” she muttered.
“We’d never call you crazy, Ma,” Baron said. “Just a little eccentric.”
“No, I don’t think eccentric is the right word,” Royal told him. “You were never very good at English, were you, brother?”
“No, I’m much better at blowing things up than I am at deciphering Shakespeare.”
“Who isn’t?” Royal said.
“Well, you aced that test on Shakespeare back in school,” Baron pointed out.
“That’s right, I did. There was a girl in our class who loved Shakespeare. She used to get this dreamy smile on her face any time I’d recite a sonnet.” Royal smiled.
“Oh, that’s right, Maisie Jean,” Baron said.
“Are you feeling better now?” Ink asked her, cupping her face between his hands. “Less stressed? I don’t like seeing you worried like this.”
“Yes, although now I’m wondering if I’ve got enough cups.” Betsy started counting the cups that were sitting in a pile next to the paper plates.
“Baby,” Ink said, cupping her chin and turning her to face him. “Everything will be fine. If we run out of paper plates and cups, we’ve got real cups and real plates in the cupboard. And if we need to, we can wash and reuse them.”
“They won’t have the right images on them, though. It’s a special year! Two hundred and fifty years! So I bought some plates that say that. I don’t want anyone to be disappointed if they get plain plates.”
Did she sound crazy? She thought that she might.
“No one will be disappointed,” Ink reassured her.
“I guess you’re right. I’m probably being a bit crazy, huh?”
“It’s just because you want to make sure everything is all good for everyone,” Zippy told her.
“Like when I came to live with you. You tried so hard to make sure everything was perfect that you ran yourself into the ground. That’s what Baron and Royal told me.
I think it’s nice. It just means a lot to you. ”
They all turned to look at Zippy and Betsy felt her tears well up in her eyes.
“Yes,” she said in a choked voice. “I guess you’re right, Zippy. It is because I care so much. I just want everyone to have a good time at the barbecue.”
“And everyone will,” Ink said. “Because you make everyone feel welcome. They are all going to have a good time.”
Betsy nodded. Of course they would. She let the last of her tension fade.
“I can’t believe the Fox is coming today,” Zippy said.
They all turned to stare at the little girl.
“Remember, you can’t say anything about the Fox to anyone outside of the people coming today,” Ink reminded her.
“Dad, I’m not an idiot. I know the Fox is a big secret. I’m not going to say anything. The kids in my class wouldn’t understand anyway. They’re all too young.”
No one pointed out to Zippy that she was only seven.
Sometimes, Betsy thought that she was an old soul in a young body.
“You three finish cleaning up in here, then take all the plates and cups outside and make sure everything is set up,” Ink ordered. “I’m going to go help Betsy get ready.”
“I am ready, aren’t I?” Betsy asked as they all got moving and Ink picked her up in his arms.
He carried her toward the stairs, shifting her around so she was on his hip.
“I’m just going to help you relax a little. How about we spend some time in the playroom for a bit?”
“The playroom? I don’t have time for that, Ink. People are going to be here in an hour.”
“And there’s nothing left that you have to do except relax,” Ink told her.
“And I’m pretty sure that you’re not meant to sit and relax an hour before forty people turn up to your house.”
“Who says? We’re making our own rules. Everything is set up.
The blankets and hay bales are out in the yard for people to sit on.
The outside furniture is all clean. The barbecue is ready to go.
We’ve got plenty of meat, and sides, and more coming.
We’ve got dessert. We’ve got plates, we’ve got cups, we’ve got alcohol.
What else could we possibly need to do?”
He carried her into her playroom, then set her down on the mat on the floor.
Instantly, she felt her Little side rising up. Her playroom always had this effect on her. It always relaxed her.
“Well, what about the fireworks? Have you checked that all of the fireworks are ready to go?” she asked.
“Button, of course I’ve checked the fireworks. Everything is set to go.”
Betsy shook her head. “I really am acting like a crazy person, aren’t I?”
“You’re just acting like someone who cares. Now, what shall we play with for half an hour? How about we finish some of that Lego you’ve been working on?”
Betsy shook her head. “I don’t think I’ve got the patience for Lego at the moment, Daddy. I might add some more glitter to my painting, though.”
“Are you sure glitter is a good idea?”
“Yeah, I had to make this picture for Hack,” Betsy told him. “Hack loves glitter. You know that. The more glitter, the better. Don’t you think this is an excellent painting?”
He looked at it. “I do think it’s an excellent painting.”
“Do you think it looks just like Hack?” she asked.
“It definitely looks like Hack,” Ink replied.
“Daddy!” she cried. “This isn’t a painting of Hack. This is a painting of his house. Oh no, this painting is terrible isn’t it? You don’t even know what it is!”
“Of course I know what it is,” Ink told her. “I was just being silly. Now, you need to finish doing your painting before we fire up the barbecue.”
“All right, Daddy.”