Zoey XVII (Patreon)

Zoey flipped pancakes, trying to focus on watching the edges for the perfect level of ‘done’ rather than thinking about what must be happening in-game. She and Ajax had logged off as soon as they were sure the boat wasn’t actively leaking, and Scar had assured her that once they repaired the rigging, the crew would patch the sail and be on their way. If everything went as well as expected, they could be arriving at Farewell Island any time now.

Deftly, she flipped a pancake out onto the plate beside her. It was already stacked high with fluffy flapjacks, and she looked over toward Ajax as she poured the last of her batter into the pan. “You cut up the cantaloupe and the honeydew?”

He held up a finger wrapped in a red-stained paper towel. “There’s only a little blood in it.”

She sighed. She’d never met someone so bad in the kitchen. Apparently, Aunt Danika had a meal delivery service, and supplemented that with pizza and microwave dinners, so Ajax didn’t know how to do anything except wash dishes. He was learning, slowly, but she was also learning not to trust him with sharp objects.

Looking over at the table, she checked to make sure Max hadn’t figured out how to reach the bacon yet. He’d been trying for years, and though his training to stay off the kitchen chairs still held, she was sure that someday Doggy Desperation would overcome Doggy Discipline, and she’d find a clean plate and a chocolate lab on the table.

Today was not that day, however, and the bacon sat beside the bowl of simple fruit salad she’d had Ajax prepare. She’d also made smoothies with milk, bananas, carrots, and zucchini, which should take care of the dairy and vegetable requirements. She eyed the last pancake critically, but it wasn’t quite ready, so she sighed and looked back at her cousin.

“What do you think we should do when we get to the island? Find the people who make that weird pastry? Or ask around to see if anyone remembers when the Monnow was last there?”

He shrugged. “Why not both? You can find the nasty lobster cookie, and Silus and I can see if anyone remembers the Monnow or Captain Matt. Heck, I’d start by asking Jean. Wasn’t her dad the pirate Thirsty hired? So, in theory, she should know what happened to the Monnow, right?”

Zoey’s hand froze, pancake drooping on the spatula she’d just used to pick it up. “How did I miss that?”

He blinked at her. “You did? They, like, told us his name and everything.” A slow grin spread across his face. “I mean, you’d have to be stu-”

She slapped the pancake back into the pan, cutting off the word, and pointed her spatula at him. “Don’t you finish that sentence.”

His smile only got wider, until she added, “Unless you want to find spider legs and worms in your meatloaf tonight.” Of course, she wouldn’t actually put anything weirder than cayenne pepper in his meatloaf, but she had a lot of pepper in the pantry.

Gulping, he shook his head, and she nodded in satisfaction, saying, “I just hadn’t put it together yet. I was focused more on finding Cap’n Matt than the pirate who sank his ship. If Matt went there as often as Matilda says he did, odds are good he had friends on the island, so someone probably has an idea where he might be. So, we might have to raid a pirate base or something, but only if we get clues that lead there. In any case, I figured a pirate wouldn’t remember a ship he sank more than two years ago, and I doubt pirates are great record-keepers, so it wasn’t worth tracking him down unless we couldn’t find anything about Matt on the island. Of course, we can absolutely ask Jean, though. It’s worth a shot, anyway.”

“Oh,” her cousin muttered. “I was kind of excited to fight pirates, though. Regular ones, I mean, not mega-ghosts.”

Zoey wrinkled her nose, catching a faint whiff of… something burnt? Quickly, she scooped up the pancake, noting that its bottom was definitely darker than she preferred, but not inedible yet. Depositing the pancake on the pile, she reached over and rang the little bell hung from the cabinet next to the stove.

“Get the smoothies out of the fridge,” she told Ajax, as she carried the plate to the table. Max’s big brown eyes were locked on the towering pile as the top pastry threatened to slip off, thanks to its hard underside. The dog let out an audible sigh of disappointment as Zoey slid the plate to safety, and she patted his head. “Sorry, Max,” she murmured. “Nana doesn’t believe in feeding dogs people food.” To be fair, she knew it wasn’t good to give the canine anything but his kibble, but he always looked so sad when she didn’t.

Nana strode in, instantly shifting the atmosphere of the kitchen from relaxed to slightly strained as both of her grandchildren waited for her reaction. She sniffed. “Good enough. Bacon’s high in fat and salt, though.”

Zoey’s hand twitched at her side, but she forced a pleasant smile and sat down, laying a napkin across her lap. “This is lean, and low sodium, Nana.” Her dad had been going through one of his health-food kicks ever since finding out about the baby, and when he tried to ban bacon, Zoey and Bree had banded together to talk him into this compromise.

A few beats passed as Nana obviously tried to decide how to respond, but then she, too, sat down and spread her napkin over her lap. Lowering her head, she murmured a few words of grace, and quickly shifted two pancakes onto her plate. Including the slightly overcooked one. Zoey, who had fully intended to take that one herself, sat stock-still as Nana slathered butter and syrup over the cakes before taking a bite.

“Mmm,” Nana said, nodding approval. “Not quite as good as U-Hop, but tasty.”

The final hurdle passed, the three of them sat and ate, occasionally exchanging a few words about the quality of their sleep and what they hoped to do today. When they were all done, Nana lifted her napkin to her lips and patted them clean, before pushing her chair back from the table. As she stood, she fixed Zoey with a look.

“You come with me, child. I think we need to have a little chat.” Turning to Ajax, she said, “You clean this up. Your cousin already did her share of the work.”

Ajax momentarily looked rebellious, but he finally let out a sigh and said, “Whatever.”

Nervously, Zoey followed her grandma as the older woman left the room. They walked into the living room, where Nana sat in the chair Zoey’s dad usually used, and motioned Zoey to the one next to her. The screen was off, for once, and for several painfully long seconds, the only sound was the clattering of dishes as Ajax gathered them up.

At last, Nana let out a sigh and smiled at Zoey. It was a strange smile, tinged with pride and sadness all at once, and something about it made Zoey’s heart start to beat faster.

“Child,” Nana started, then shook her head. “Zoey. I had a talk like this with your daddy, and your aunt and uncle, too. It happened at a different time with all of them, but I think Marcus was only about sixteen. He grew up too fast, that boy, after-” Her eyes grew shiny, and Zoey knew what she wasn’t saying.

Danika wasn’t Zoey’s only aunt, but the other one, Kiara, had died when she was even younger than Zoey was now. From what Zoey had heard, Kiara had been pretty wild, and one day, she had asked her older brother if she could go out with some friends who were bad news. Nana and Aunt Danika were both at work, so Marcus was the oldest one at home, and of course he said no, then went back to what he was doing. Kiara had snuck out anyway, a decision that had had fatal consequences. As far as Zoey was concerned, that wasn’t her dad’s fault, but the event had torn the little family apart, and the scars lingered to this day.

Shaking her head, Nana sighed. “Maybe I was too hard on them after Kiara passed. Maybe I’m still too hard on you all.” Her eyes flicked to the kitchen door, and she smiled, just a little. “Though probably not. But one thing I know, is that all children become adults some day, and you can’t treat an adult like a child.”

Zoey’s heart lifted, then sank again as Nana lifted a staying hand. “Not that I’m saying you’re all grown up, Zoey-girl, but… you’re more grown than not.” Her little smile grew into a real one, though it still held that edge of sadness. “Maybe if I’d known when to start letting go, Kiara would still be with us. If she’d known her choices would be respected, within reason, maybe she wouldn’t have felt like the only way to be free was to break all the rules. I don’t know.” Her knobby knuckle touched the corner of her eye, wiping away a tear before it could properly form.

“In any case, today’s your day, Zoey,” her Nana said. “Your daddy did a good job with you, and you’re a good person. You make good choices, for the most part, and the ones that aren’t, well,” she shrugged, “they’re not so bad that you won’t be around to learn from them.” Her voice caught, but she plowed on. “So, our deal stands. You make the food, and make sure it’s healthy. Otherwise, go to bed when you want, wake up when you want, and play your game if you want. I’m here whenever you want to do something else, or if you just want to talk.”

She smiled again, and though Zoey’s eyes would never match the rest of her family’s, that smile was one that Zoey had seen in a mirror a thousand times. “Your Nana’s not so bad, you know,” she said, “an’ I’d sure like to get to know the woman you’re becoming.”

Zoey felt tears well up, and before she knew it, she was hugging the old woman, her face buried in the crook of her neck. All her fears and worries poured out like a stopper had been pulled from a bathtub, and all the cold, dirty water was swirling out through the drain. Her Nana just held her, not saying a word, and patted her on the back until she was able to stop.

When the last of Zoey’s concerns about being replaced and displaced had come out, she sat up, scrubbing at her hot, swollen eyes. Her Nana had produced a real, cloth handkerchief from somewhere, and by now it was a sodden mess, but it still worked to sop up the last of the wetness from her face. She looked at her Nana, expectantly.

Nana just smiled. “Do you feel better?”

To Zoey’s surprise, she did, so she nodded, and her grandma went on. “Do you want me to fix it all for you? Talk to Marcus and Bree when they get back?”

Zoey opened her mouth to say ‘Yes’, but closed it again with a click. No. No, she didn’t want an adult to step in and fix it. She wanted to fix it. She wanted her dad and Bree to listen to her, and for them to figure it all out. Together. She wasn’t sure what would happen when she tried to have that conversation, but that was okay. It was her conversation to have.

She shook her head. “I… have to talk to them. I’ve been pretending everything was okay, and it’s not. And I’m not a kid any more, so I deserve a voice. Even if they won’t change their minds, at least I’ll have tried.”

Nana smiled and reached out to smooth down Zoey’s curls. “There you go, then. You tell them what you just told me, and you see how it goes. I love you, Zoey.” She held open her arms, and Nana hugged her tight before putting her hands on Zoey’s shoulders and leaning back, eyeing her face and hair.

“Now, if you were a child, I’d tell you to go upstairs and clean your face and fix your hair. You aren’t, so I won’t, but mmm, girl.” She shook her head, eyes twinkling.

Zoey leaped to her feet, jumping straight up, even though she’d been kneeling on the carpet in front of her grandma’s chair for a good quarter of an hour. Turning, Zoey ran from the room, but she clearly heard Nana’s muttered, “I miss having knees like that.”