We walk into the restaurant and take a seat. It’s just the three of us – me, Katie and Brooke. Luau is out on a 20 mile run.
Brooke hates eating breakfast out, but after the smoke alarm incident on Saturday morning, the thought of a restaurant is apparently less terrifying than Mama going anywhere near the stove.
As we sit down, Brooke lets out an involuntary yelp.
Katie looks at her, her face warm and gentle.
“What is it, Brooke? Are you OK?”
Her sister’s answer is rote.
“I don’t knooooooow!”
Her voice is strained and tight.
Katie pats the table in front of her.
“It’s OK, Brooke. There won’t be any noises and nothing here can hurt you. I promise. We’ve got you, OK?”
Katie glances at me quickly, sees her mama welling up – AGAIN – and rolls her eyes.
Someday she’ll know why.