“Mo-om! Damon’s breathing fire at me again!”
Stephanie rolled her eyes at Gina’s wailing. “Honey, he’s just a baby. Don’t get so close to him.”
She continued making supper: meatloaf, green beans, rolls, and the formula. The smell of rotten eggs covered all other odors in the kitchen. The yellow and red stones sitting in a wicker basket next to the fruit glared at her maliciously, waiting for mortar and pestle.
“Mo-om! Damon’s trying to fly again!”
Stephanie put the green beans on the stovetop and checked on the meatloaf. She took off her apron and strode into the living room. After double checking her hair, tied tightly into a bun, she plucked Damon off the edge of the playpen. His under-developed, bat-like wings beat the air as he squawked with outrage. Stephanie tucked him into her arm and rocked him, making a hissing noise.
Soon the child closed his yellow eyes and laid his blue-black cheek against her breast. His breathing slowed as he fell asleep. Stephanie put him gently down in the playpen and pulled the lid over the top to prevent future flight attempts. The little devil just wasn’t old enough yet.
A short time later, Stephanie was finishing up supper while Gina set the table. Both jumped as the front door suddenly banged open to show a monstrous winged profile.
Gina’s face lit up. “Daddy’s home!” She ran to the door, blonde hair streaming behind.
Devon swept the five year old up into the air, then caught her in a hug. He shrugged off his cloak and kicked off his shoes still holding her. Stephanie paused long enough to open the playpen and pick up the baby, then met Devon at the kitchen door.
Devon kissed the baby’s head then his wife’s lips. His red eyes glittered happily as he pulled back. Stephanie smiled and dragged the steel highchair to the table.
“I wanna kiss, daddy!” Gina proclaimed as Devon sat her down in her booster seat. He tipped her head back and pecked each cheek before landing one on her nose. Gina’s high-pitched giggles and Damon’s baby-laughter filled the kitchen.
Stephanie brought the meatloaf to the table. She watched her family for a moment, noticing the familiar, slightly sad expression on Devon’s face. She silently promised herself she would talk to him later.
“Gina, don’t throw green beans at your brother!”