The Naturals | O.S

Wild Goat Chase

KATHLEEN

"What color should I paint my nails?" Lia asks idly, peering down at her hands with a slight pout.

"Teal," I reply, steadying the pencil in my hand.

"What? No."

I run the wood gently across the sides of my fingers. "Tyrian purple."

"Kathy—"

"Coquelicot."

"Those are not Thanksgiving colours," she quips, her brow arching in annoyance. "That last one doesn't even exist."

"Actually," Sloane begins, leaning down on her forearms until she is eye level with the kitchen island. "It does. Coquelicot is a French word referencing the red-orange tint of corn poppies. On the RGB colour chart, coquelicot is composed of one hundred percent red and twenty two percent green."

I grin at Lia in triumph, and she huffs, blowing a loose strand of jet black hair from her face.

"I think you should use Falu Red," the blonde continues. "It's Swedish."

A somber look rests on Lias face as she stares helplessly out the window. I chuckle softly, reaching for the bucket of nail polish. I sift around for a deep red and pass it to her. "Red is your best color."

"You'd be correct," she states with a chesire smile, plucking the small bottle from my grasp. "What color do you want yours to be?"

"Kathy can't paint her nails right now," Sloane argues. "We're making hand turkeys."

She drags a plastic pencil box to the place in front of her and draws out a brand new pair of scissors. The corners of her mouth tweak upwards, and I quickly swipe the scissors from her hand. Her lips pop open in a perfect 'o' shape.

"Hey!" She squeals.

"Judd said you're not allowed to use scissors anymore," I chastise. "They're like two tiny shivs bolted together."

"I am nineteen years old," she counters, a pleading look flitting across her face.

"And Maddox gave you coffee before he left for the airport," I remind her.

The McPhersons are big "family" people. I am ninety percent certain that if we were to stay in Virginia for Thanksgiving, McKenna would have a full blown coronary.

Dean and I won't be able to head up to Missouri for another few days, but Maddox caught a flight this morning. Conveniently, with the knowledge that he would not have to reap the consequences, Maddox slipped Sloane a cup of coffee.

At six in the morning.

He'd argue that at this point, Sloane is much more tame. But I don't think I will ever forget the "fun dolphin  facts" she told me while I was in the shower earlier.

"I promise I won't do anything," Sloane volleys, her brows pulling together in the middle. The pale blue seems to darken with a wave of sadness, and I find myself holding my breath to keep from caving.

"Don't fall for it," Lia whispers. "It's a chaotic evil we cannot afford so early in the day."

I narrow my eyes at Sloane. "You're tricky."

"Cunning," she corrects, and I cock my head with a scoff. "I'll be taking those scissors now—"

"No way, Jose."

"How am I going to cut out my turkey?"

"I'll do it."

"But what if you shorten one of my fingers?"