Remus near jumped from his skin when a phone rang suddenly. El answered quickly shooting them an apologetic glance.
“Hey, Trish,” he began but he hadn’t even finished her name when Remus heard her voice coming from the other end of the line, fast and urgent.
“Nothin’s wrong—”
“Daisy doesn’t know her head from her ass—”
“Yeah, she is. All right, Trish. Just let me—”
“Okay, okay. Our boys are in a bit of trouble. Colleen and I thought we might be able to help—”
“No, Trish, we don’t need you and the girls—”
“Patricia Frances Colby, for once in your life will you do as I ask and stay home.”
Remus listened to the one-sided conversation and the desperation in El’s voice when he begged Trish to listen to him and stay home. His heart ached—no, worse than ached, it tore apart at the idea of
