Ira smiled as a small, marker-stained hand touched the brim of his hat. “It is. They call that color teal. Ori loves it, she got the hat for me.”
Meanwhile, Ori was giggling at Staas’s accidental slip-up, though she made a face of mock woe at Alida’s alacrity in calling him out. “Not the ‘c’ word, too? I think I should just leave while I’m ahead. I don’t actually mean that at all.”
She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “He said that you’re over two centuries old and you bathe in the blood of virgins to look as young as you do. Tough luck, Mi—Staas.” (Not that her brother didn’t know –and who was he to chastise her? he’d been younger, and actually in America at the time—but it really was best not to remind him.)
“It’s a curse,” she echoed, tossing her short bob. “It is just so fff—“ Ori caught herself, drawing the syllable out and wincing. “—uh, so hard.”
Ira looked at Theo for support, giving the boy a wink and a fun jostle. “Can’t blame me for that. Right, little man?” He leaned into Staas for a three-way hug between father and son anyways, grinning crookedly at the kiss. That wasn’t going to do anything to dispel his sister’s fantasies at all, but Ira couldn’t not appreciate the fond gesture. “I care. I’m not that shallow, though,” he teased Staas’ back.
“Ick. Yeah.” She nodded, extending a lacy, fingerless gloved hand to lead Alida into the kitchen while the two brothers followed. “Can I have some tea or something instead?”