A high-pitched, airplane-like noise ripped past his bedroom and through the house. He heard Harley’s footsteps drag into the kitchen, and then only blessed silence. Half an hour later, he woke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and bacon. As the silence continued, curiosity got the better of him and he rolled out of bed. Whatever trick Harley had used to keep the girls quiet, he definitely had to learn it. Tugging on his blue jeans, he wandered down the hallway, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. After last night, walking into the kitchen was like stepping into the twilight zone. The twins were seated at the table, faces freshly scrubbed, angelic countenances firmly in place. “Good morning, Unca Gage,” they sang in unison, and promptly went back to drawing all over his morning paper. Oh well. At least they were quiet and not tearing around the house, a path of destruction in their wake. “Morning, girls.” He dragged his butt across the kitchen and stopped behind Harley, peering over her shoulder at the pans of sizzling bacon and scrambled eggs.
