"Yeah. I mean I understand where she's coming from," Dean answered, shoulders hunching a little beneath Seamus' arm, uncomfortable with the topic too. "Yeah, we can talk later," he agreed. "Most of the girls are out. Amber will be back soon though, and Owen, Ross, and Abbie are watching TV and playing with some bloody wretched game that makes this GRINDING noise. I'm going starkers," Dean complained, laughing a little. "Ethan's over at the neighbors'." Dean had no shortage of siblings. Three at a time to watch was more than enough. Amber could take over when she got in though - it was her turn, he'd had them all day yesterday, plus Ethan. Ethan, the youngest Thomas, was more than enough to try to keep up with all on his own. "Don't say I didn't warn you. Libby can't cook. I think she gets it from mum."
He led Seamus inside, where the seven year old twins, Owen and Abbie, looked up from their game and then scurried over, yelling hello. Eleven year old Ross just grinned from where he was plonked in front of the TV set.
The twins took most of Seamus' attention, showing him missing teeth and their absurdly loud game that made Dean roll his eyes. He sent them back to the TV with Ross after a bit though, leaving the two of them momentarily alone in the kitchen, though they could still hear the kids chattering in the next room.
Dean grabbed down a slightly warped blue tupperware container from the top of the fridge. It held some unevenly cut, flaky pastry squares with some sort of fruit topping in the middle. "If you choke, I'm not reviving you," he warned, grinning at his friend and then dropping down to sit at the kitchen table, legs sprawled across the kitchen floor as he slouched sideways in the sturdy wooden chair. The kitchen, like the rest of the house, was cozy and functional - but looked lived in, and no where near new or especially expensive. It was comfortable, though. Sitting sideways like that, he could just see the kids in the other room from the corner of his eye.