Free Being Their Baby by Korey Mae Johnson

her ID first.
    Eventually she passed Elizabeth the stack of papers and walked up to Charlie, who was pouring pancake batter onto the hot skillet in front of him, and held out the ID.
    As soon as he put the bowl of batter down, he grabbed her ID out of her hand and peered over it, then flipped it over and scanned the back. “What’s this?” he grumbled irritably. “Weirdest ID I ever saw. Where’s your driver’s license?”
    “I don’t have a driver’s license,” Sophie replied tersely, as if he should have guessed that much. “I don’t have a car, and neither did anyone in my family. Getting a permit would have been stupid, so I just got my state-issued ID when I was looking for a job a couple of years ago.”
    When he finally decided her identification wasn’t a fake, he passed it back to her. “How’d you get to work, then?” he asked grouchily.
    “It’s called a bus, Mr. Hobbes. I know you’ve probably never actually ridden on one before, but they’re big cars that pick you up from one spot and drop you off in another.” The sarcasm was like syrup on her tongue. Liz watched as Charlie’s face reddened. Chances were that he’d never been treated like a snooty elitist before.
    Josh snorted during his failed attempt to stifle his laughter and covered up his mouth with his hand so that there wouldn’t be evidence of his smile, either.
    Charlie eyed his brother and then looked down at Sophie. “Any more sarcasm like that, young lady, and I’m not adding any chocolate chips to your pancakes,” he warned.
    Her forehead smoothed as she narrowed her eyes with confusion. “Huh? Chocolate chips in pancakes?” she asked.
    “Yeah, makes them like cookies,” Charlie said, and added some to one of her pancakes just to illustrate.
    She got up on her tiptoes and watched what he was doing with large owl eyes. “Whoa.”
    His annoyance over Sophie’s tone dissipated with the childlike fascination she was displaying, Charlie squinted over at Liz in an accusatory you-did-this-you-witch! look.
    Liz merely returned his glare with a look of a cat that got the cream. She patted her lap. “Come here, baby,” she called to Sophie. “Get out of Charlie’s path if you don’t want a pancake to land on your head.”
    Sophie chewed her lip slightly when she was called “baby,” but she eventually walked over to Liz and let her guide her onto her lap.
    “You guys don’t need to see my license. I mean, I won’t tell anybody about your relationship,” she told Josh, yet her voice was loud enough for Charlie to hear. “I mean, I wouldn’t want Miss Button to get in trouble—I know how this might look if, like, the news found out. Liz is kinda a celebrity.”
    “And so is Charlie. Hence his paranoia,” Josh added with a wink.
    She lifted an eyebrow and looked over at Charlie. “A celebrity of what ?”
    Charlie’s shoulders stiffened; Liz knew that he wished he was a little more well-known to the non-football crowd. “We’ll talk to you about everything, promise,” Liz said in her ear, giving her an adoring squeeze.
    “Well, I wouldn’t tell anyone about everything. This house is like Vegas—what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas,” Sophie announced to the room, straightening.
    Josh gave a small laugh and Liz rewarded Sophie with a kiss on the cheek, then a pat on the thigh when Sophie squirmed over to the seat next to her. The chair had padding on it, but Sophie didn’t seem too impressed with its ability to make her bottom feel any better.
    “That’s very mature of you,” Josh said. “Thank you.”
    Charlie came over, delivering a plate of pancakes in front of her with a tall glass of orange juice. Sophie stared at the orange juice like it was an uninvited pest. “Do you want milk instead?” Charlie asked after shaking his head at Sophie’s apparent pickiness.
    “Do you have any orange soda?” Sophie asked hopefully.
    “For breakfast? Or in the fridge?” Charlie replied crisply.
    “Uh…