By the time he unpacked what little he had, the sun had started to dip, casting a burnt orange hue across the floorboards. Downstairs, he could hear dishes clinking and faint music playing...a smooth R&B track that felt like it belonged to this house. Familiar. Worn in.
When he came downstairs, the smell hit him first...garlics, onions and more, something savory and rich. His stomach growled before he even made it to the kitchen.
Sophia stood at the stove, back to him. She moved with practiced ease, flipping something in a pan, hips swaying gently to the music.
Janet was already seated at the dining table, now changed into a soft gray tank top and black yoga pants. Comfortable, relaxed...but damn, she looked good. Her body, though older, was sculpted and elegant, curves in all the right places. Graham's eyes caught on her for a second too long, and before he could pull his gaze away, Sophia turned just in time to see it.
Her eyes narrowed.
Of course.
Graham looked down quickly, pretending to admire the food instead.
Janet smiled as he sat down. "Sophia cooked," she said, gesturing toward the spread on the table. "Hope you're hungry."
Graham gave a polite nod, his voice a little rough. "Smells great."
Sophia set the last dish down with a clink and dropped into the seat across from him, her expression unreadable. "Don't get used to it," she muttered, then stabbed a piece of chicken with her fork.
Graham didn't respond. He was too focused on his plate. The food actually was good...rosemary chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans with a little spice. For a moment, everything felt almost normal. Almost.
"So," Janet said, her tone casual, "have you thought about when you'd like to start school? There's no rush, of course. We can give it a few weeks if you need to settle in first."
Graham paused, chewing slowly. Then, he surprised even himself.
"Tomorrow," he said.
Janet blinked. "Tomorrow?"
He nodded. "I need to… get out...be around people. Might help clear my head a little."
There was a beat of silence before Janet smiled softly. "If that's what you want, I'll make a few calls in the morning. We can get you transferred over."
From across the table, Sophia snorted, barely hiding it behind her fork.
Graham didn't even look at her. "Something funny?"
"Nope," she said flatly, then shoved another bite into her mouth.
He muttered under his breath, "What the hell is her problem…"
Janet must've heard, but she didn't say anything. Just sipped her water, her expression unreadable.
The meal went on, quiet again...just forks on plates and the low sound of music in the background.
After the meal, the clatter of plates and silverware broke the stillness in the kitchen. Sophia stood by the sink, rinsing off dishes with quick, practiced movements. Her back was to Graham again, but her energy said everything...she didn't want company.
Still, Graham walked over anyway. He figured it was the least he could do after she cooked. He grabbed a dish towel from the rack and stood beside her, waiting for her to pass the next clean plate.
She didn't look at him. Just kept scrubbing.
"I'll dry," he said, his voice even.
Sophia made a small sound, barely a grunt, and handed him a plate without saying anything.
They worked in silence for a minute, the faucet running, dishes clinking gently into the drying rack. The silence wasn't comfortable though...it was thick, loaded with tension. Graham could feel her sideways glances, the way she kept her movements short, her posture stiff.
He let out a quiet sigh, breaking the silence.
"You know," he said finally, his voice calm but direct, "it'd be better if we got along. You can stop being harsh on me. I'm not trying to mess anything up here."
Sophia paused for a beat, then slowly turned her head toward him. Her eyes locked on his, and there was a cold smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.
"Hey, pretty face," she said, her tone sharp and sweet at the same time, "don't stress me, eh?"
She rolled her eyes and turned back to the sink, her tone making it clear...she didn't want a heart-to-heart. Not now. Maybe not ever.
Graham scoffed under his breath and shook his head, drying off the last plate. He didn't say another word. What was the point?
He dropped the towel on the counter and turned away.
Upstairs, he let the bedroom door close behind him with a soft click. He didn't even bother turning on the light. Just let the quiet swallow him whole as he sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor for a long moment before falling back onto the mattress with a sigh.