#rivervale_lodge

"Yes'm." She heads for the kitchen.

He trails after her obediently.

Frank sighs and looks at Brekke.

Brekke watches them go, then looks to Frank. "You did very well."

"Mmph." Another grunt.

"You want cake, not, like, biscuits?"

“Biscuits are good too. Buddy eats anything, when he gets hungry. And I go see Buddy if I get that hungry, then we don’t neither have to be hungry.”

A pause. “But cake isn’t as dry, and biscuits don’t have the frosting that melts just right. Kerri let me lick the bowl one time.”

"You get hungry enough, bet Conner'd eat anything, too..."

She reaches to take Frank's hand. "She will make mistakes with that phone. We must be prepared for that."

She takes the glass dome off the cake and cuts out two fat squares.

He nods. "There's a way to see what the minutes are being used for. That would not be checking to see where she is."

“The peanut butter ones aren’t bad.” He leans in and whispers conspiratorially. “But I got in trouble for eating them. They belong to Oak.” His ears droop. “And are Not For Boys To Eat.” Repeating a scolding it sounds like.

(What flavor cake? *drool*)

"Peanut butter? Probably not bad, yeah." She hands him a plate and fork.

Brekke nods. "And we will not abuse that option."

Frank nods, still holding the book near his desk, glasses on his nose.

(probably vanilla with lemon frosting)

"Well...I am going up. Are you staying up to read?"

"No." A faint smile. "I'll bring it up with me."

He accepts the cake, but cuts it in half, leaving the side with more frosting. “You like cake too?”

"Yeah. They let you eat as much as you want here." She holds up her own plat of cake.

"In a minute." She gets up and goes to the kitchen and looks in the door.

“What if they run out because there are too many people?” Eyeing the amount of cake left on the platter.

"When you finish what you have on your plates, please wash them, and then get ready for bed."

He looks at his plate, then carefully scoops the larger half onto another plate and offers this to Brekke. “For Siv?”

"Well...thank you, Connor." A bit puzzled, but she takes the plate. "I will bring it to her."

She raises an eyebrow.

His tail wags happily. This will surely set things right, and only then does he taste, then Devour his own bit.

A shrug, and she finishes HER piece in about three bites.

To Dagmar, through a mouthful. “Now she’s not mad.” Half a statement, half a question.

Frank observes that from near the bottom of the stairs. "Do we take it up to her?" Quietly.

Brekke nods. "I will." And she goes up the stairs, knocks on Siv's door, and delivers the offering. "Connor thought you might like this. Be sure not to leave the plate up here in the morning."

Then she meets Frank at their room. "She may well have her face plastered to that screen for a day or two."

"Could be worse." Absently murmured as he takes her hand.

"It could, indeed." Her hand in his, they go into the room and shut the door.

"I don't think anybody is mad, nah."

“That’s good. I don’t like it when they are mad.” Licking his fork long past any trace of frosting. “That’s when your name is ‘No!’ and you have to get out of the way. I don’t like boots.”

"I know how that is, yeah."

He blinks at her, surprised. “But you’re big.”

"Dagmar is big. Sam's... well, too big, but not big enough. You know?"

He nods slowly. “I only lived with Dagmars. Because I’m not allowed around the Sams, or I might break them again. But the bigger Dagmars get mad and then go for the smallers.”

He swallows, concentrating, and adds, “But you’re the only Dagmar here. And here’s not like there. Siv got in trouble and she didn’t even pull a tail or twist an ear at all.”