Elizabeth read like it was going out of style. Inconceivable was just a word added to the long list on the back of the bedroom door, of words collected like rocks. Inconceivable was all Princess Bride sitting in her grandfather's lap, and Ella's smile pinched at the corners, deepening over cheekbones that were sharper with age.
"White isn't a color," Elizabeth informed Gus very seriously, "It's all colors," as she took his hand and half-followed, half-steered him toward the dogs with a very six-year-old yelp of pleasure at being sniffed and licked and in every way greeted by the furry crew.
"I'll take it," Ella said, South-thick on her tongue and she looked above the two small heads to Luke with what she knew looked like a tired smile. Elizabeth wasn't a brat, but she'd grown up with two grandparents who were present and who tried, as best they could. There hadn't been a lot of sleep the past couple nights and the coffee sounded real good right now. "She started hating pink at oh, three," she said, fondly in Elizabeth's direction.