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“I know, I know. We’ll play it by ear. And since we never discussed it, I might as well tell you now that the starting pay is eighty thousand a year.” He says it so matter-of-factly that it takes a second before my brain retains the information. Eighty fucking thousand? “American dollars?” I ask. Dad snorts, like I was making a joke.
But still, I can’t pass up an opportunity to harass my dad. “So… you know what Luther’s R-rated sounds are like? Is there something you two want to tell me? Is that what this breakfast is all about?” Dad sputters for a moment before throwing his head back with a laugh. Luther lays a hand on my dad’s shoulder with a wicked grin aimed my way. “That’s right, Kendra. I’m your daddy now too.” I gape. He. Didn’t.
“So, you’re saying if I murder you, you’ll fling knives out of kitchen drawers.” I cross my arms. “You’re acting like that wouldn’t be terrifying. You could lose a toe, Luther. Do you have any idea how much you need your toes for balance? You’d have to go to physical therapy.”
“Here you go.” I hold the beer out for Luther. He sits up from his reclined position, taking the bottle. “Thanks, Baby.” My heart stops. He just called me Baby. In front of his daughter. “Goats.” Luther coughs the word while he pats his chest, like he swallowed something wrong. “You can hire them to eat your lawn.”
I kiss her hair again. “You ready to go to our room, Baby?” She turns into me, pressing a hand to my chest. “Yes, Daddy.” Heat pulses down my spine. “Nope!” Joe yells loudly from close by. Kendra slaps a hand over her mouth. “Nope. Nope. Nope.” Joe holds his hands up as he walks away from us, shaking his head. I can’t help it. I laugh. Loudly.

