Duty and Devotion Read Free

subject as quickly as possible and moved the troops closer to the finish line.
    Their last stop was the high school, where Katie had “school hasn't even started yet and there's already” field hockey practice. She sat on the steps waiting for them, all glamorous blonde curls and plaid skirt and knee socks, talking to some boys. Matt resisted the urge to get out and kill said boys preemptively. He knew exactly what they were thinking.
    He honked the SUV's horn aggressively.
    Katie gave the boys a wave, picked up her bag, and ran to the SUV. Matt barely gave her time to buckle up in the front seat before he took off.
    “We're having pizza tonight, and Matt remembered your shampoo,” Elizabeth announced from the backseat.
    “Dad's working late?” Katie changed the radio station, from Matt's classic rock to people screaming to a thumping bass beat, nabbing a pair of the extra sunglasses off the dashboard and putting them on.
    “Yes.” Matt frowned. “Who were those boys?”
    “Miscreants and troublemakers. I think they're on parole,” Katie said blithely, bopping her head to the music.
    “Oh right, I forgot to tell you. Those brochures from the convents in the Swiss Alps finally came.”
    Katie snickered.
    * * *
    Between the four of them they got the SUV unloaded pretty quickly. Matt turned on the small television in the kitchen for some manly ESPN as he rearranged the fridge and pantry to accommodate all the food. This kitchen was slightly bigger than the one in Evan's old house; it was part of the reason they chose it. Well, that and the facts that the kids could stay in their schools and there were enough bedrooms and two entrances. Which meant that should the “roommate” story be needed, it would seem plausible.
    Not that anyone believed that. Matt was amazed at just how quickly their neighbors figured his and Evan's relationship out. If he'd lived next door to them, he wouldn't have noticed unless they were doing it on the front lawn—and Matt happened to be walking by. Apparently in the suburbs—people noticed. At a professional level.
    No one said anything to them, but he did note just how few barbecues they were invited to and how many playdates did not happen at their house. He tried not to take it personally. Plus he really didn't want to go to barbecues to make small talk with strangers, or have other people's kids running around.
    “I'm ordering the pizza,” Katie announced, walking into the kitchen and grabbing the cordless. “By the way, Danny is doing that not talking, sulking thing in the sunroom. Do you want peppers?”
    “Okay, okay, and okay.” Matt crammed the last box of cereal in the pantry and shoved the door closed. “Any tips on what to say?” Of all the children, Katie was Matt's second-in-command. Calm and levelheaded where her older sister Miranda chose the dramatic, Katie shepherded her younger siblings and Matt through the complicated routine of everyday life. She was also okay with Matt asking her stupid questions—like what to say when tween angst hit the only Cerelli boy child.
    Katie shrugged. “I don't know. Mom used to tell me that what Dad did was important, that he was helping people who needed it and stuff like that.” She paused thoughtfully. “Then she'd give us all twenty dollars!”
    “You're kinda evil,” Matt pointed out, almost admiringly. “Order a salad and some broccoli and something for your dad.”
    “'Kay.”
    And Matt went off to deal with his least favorite form of almost stepparenting.
    * * *
    For about twenty minutes, Matt just lounged on the second old couch they'd thrown in the extra room. It housed anything that didn't fit in the rest of the house, which meant two couches, four bookcases, and three assorted tables wedged under the windows plus an old wooden toy chest for a coffee table. Danny remained on the other couch, seemingly engrossed in his DSi. Matt looked at the ceiling, pondered repainting, and then finally cleared his throat. He