Chapter 15

By the time my brothers came back down from their shower, I was carefully taking the pigs-in-a-blanket out of the oven. 

I scowled as I got blasted with heat. 

As I carefully reached into it, craning my face away as best as I can and stretching my gloved covered hands into the piping hot oven, the blistering warmth slowly began to seep out. It was slowly becoming unbearable as I finally managed to grasp the pan.

“It’s hot.” I groaned to myself. Heaving the pan from the oven, I turned to face my brothers. “Could one of you two-”

“We got it.”

Joaquin easily took the hot pan from my grasp and Antonio closed the oven door. I slipped the mittens off, a little jealous how my brothers didn’t mind the sweltering heat. They were resistant to things like that. Though they weren’t as immune as our dad was, they could handle heat a lot better than I could.

I shuffled towards the table, a pout glued to my lips. Climbing onto my chair, settling onto the wooden seat, I watched as Joaqn reached out to grab a handful of pigs-in-a-blanket to put onto his plate.  

“Be careful,” I grumbled, “It's hot.”

“You just took them out the oven.” Joaquin snorted, “Of course they’ll be hot. Why don’t you blow on them.”

“Or….” Antonio began with a drawl, “You could suffer through the pain.”

“Well that's mean.”  

As Antonio popped a steaming blanket into his mouth, a thoughtful expression fell upon his face as he chewed. He beamed at the taste, plucking a few from the hot pan and placing them on his plate. Antonio continued, his plate of pigs-in-a-blanket beginning to pile high. “I can be mean when I want to be.” 

“Mhm,” I nod.

“Sure you can.” Joaquin snorted sarcastically.

After waiting a few more moments, I finally decided that the blankets were cool enough for me to enjoy. I plucked a few from the pile, placing most on my plate as I kept one in my hand to eat. 

It was long before our fathers decided to join us at the table. As dad placed a pitcher of sweet lemonade and a wad of napkins before us, Papa placed a plate of chocolate chip and macadamia nut cookies onto the table.

I eagerly snatched a rather chunky chocolate chip cookie.

“Boys,” Papa cleared his throat, “Be mindful with your arguing. We have a guest.”

As I happily munched on my lunch, Antonio and Joaquin turned their attention towards our fathers. While Antonio continued eating, they both regarded the couple oddly, obviously confused by the statement our papa made.

“Guest?” Joaquin questioned.

Papa nods, “The prince.”

Antonio and Joaquin continued to stare.

“He’s here?” Joaquin questioned again.

“He’s up in the room.” Dad said, “I’ve brought him here early today.”

Antonio had paused mid bite, gaze flickering back and forth between our fathers. He waved the blanket towards dad, “Why didn’t anybody say anything? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I,” Papa dramatically began, “just found out myself.” 

“Dad!” Antonio exclaimed, “For shame! There's supposed to be no secrets in this family!” 

“Calm down Antonio. Just let me explain-”

Joaquin interrupted dad. “Is he going to come downstairs now or-”

“Do we have to share our food?” Antonio whined.

As Joaquin, dad, and I rolled our eyes at Antonio, because of course he would say something like that, Papa fixed Antonio with a disapproving glare. “And here I thought I raised you with manners.” Papa scolded.

Dad ignored Antonio for a moment, turning his attention towards Joaquin. “I doubt he’s coming downstairs now. I think he wants to be left alone.” Dad began, “And yes Antonio,” He glanced at his other son, “you would have to share your food if he wanted some. He’s a guest in our home.”

“I was just asking.”

Everyone rolled their eyes.

I grasped my cup of lemonade, eagerly gulping down the sweet drink as Joaquin turned his attention back towards his food. I could tell he didn’t want to entertain Antonio any further than he needed to. Seeing how his grin stretched mischievously, both Joaquin and I could tell he was about to start something.

“So if he were to come downstairs, I would have to share my food?”

“That is what I said.”

“Right, right.” Antonio nods, his grin spreading and eyes twinkling. He ignored dad’s eye roll, more focused on the way Papa narrowed his eyes suspiciously. He continued, “.....so-”

“You look just like your dad but your attitude is a mystery to me.” Papa interrupts. “I do wonder where you get your mouth from.”

“Do you?” Dad asks sarcastically.

Papa nods, “I do.”