Donovan gestured at everyone to back away. "I think it’s safe to say that Paddy does not want anyone near his lunch."
Wilder turned to Claire, keen eyes studying her. The old woman had been born in Briarshore and she had lived there her whole life. She had never once come across an abalone that smelled so rich or grew to such a size. "Claire, where did you catch these abalones?"
Donovan cut in with a broad smile. "Have you seen the spiny lobster? That thing must have been raised on steroids."
Claire scratched the back of her neck, pondering on how to respond to her grandmother’s question. She knew the rest would be just as curious about the things she had brought back. Her father was already holding one to the light, observing it like a scientist.
"This is top quality, king of abalone! Just looking at it makes me feel giddy, as if I am falling in love." Victor laughed.
Donna pinched her husband’s arm. "Falling in love?"
Victor put the abalone back down. "Obviously, I am not falling in real love with an abalone! I am not crazy. I just mean that I am excited. Can you smell that? If we can use such abalones to cook abalone porridge at our breakfast shop, we would be able to compete with the big hotels." His eyes went to Claire, "Where did you catch this?"
Claire had already made up her answer. "I don’t know," she said, even shrugging and putting on her best lost look. "I just stopped my boat when Paddy started barking and this was the result of our efforts."
Donovan and Victor crouched and patted Paddy’s head.
"Good boy." Victor praised.
Wilder laughed with pride, "That’s my Paddy, he has a nose for good things. The two of you make a great team. Next time you go out, take ice and bigger coolers. Don’t waste such good seafood by bringing it home, just sell it."
The appetizing scent of Paddy’s simmering abalone seemed to double, making everyone long for a taste.
Claire shook her head while rubbing her stomach. "Grandma, I can’t sell everything. Even a good hunter has to eat meat sometimes."
Benjamin raised his hand. "I second that."
As if they were meant to support her, the rest of Claire’s brothers squeezed into the kitchen, even Archer and Ansel.
"I third it." Bennett laughed. "But sis, don’t get it twisted, I am the fourth in this quad."
"And I am the third, but I fourth it." Benson winked at Claire.
Bernard shook his head. "Sis, those two are not exactly the brightest. That is why they can say nonsense like ’I third it’ and ’I fourth it.’ Also, I am the second in the Bens quad. I look a lot like Bennett so he often pretends to be me. He has a small mole behind his left ear so if you ever get confused on who is who, just check there."
Claire nodded. Benjamin did not need to re-introduce himself or share what made him different his brothers. Not all the Bens looked alike. Benjamin had a strong resemblance to Donovan, unlike his brothers.
As for Archer and Ansel, Claire had already met them properly after they visited her. Right now, they looked less like her older brothers and more like hungry goblins. With the gleam in their eyes, Paddy’s lobster seemed to be in danger.
"Mom..." Archer whined, rubbing his stomach. "I want whatever Paddy is having."
Donna sighed. "Ask your sister first if she intends for these things to be cooked as lunch. None of you should ever assume that simply because she is your sister, her belongings are yours to take without permission. Whatever you want, always ask her first."
Claire appreciated her words. This kind of rule did not exist in Alden and Heimi’s house. Whatever she had, they had always taken as they wished. In fact, they always assumed her things belonged to them. When she was fourteen, a friend had given her a lottery ticket at school in exchange for ten math tutoring lessons.
Perhaps it was luck, but Claire had won 25,000 dollars. As soon as she told her mother, the money was split up as everyone had something they needed. She was only left with 1000 dollars.
Nobody had asked her what she wanted to use the prize money for. They had only said she was young, and therefore had fewer needs compared to everyone else. Heimi was the one who collected the money on her behalf. She had taken the winning ticket from Claire’s vanity while she was sleeping.
It had been that way since her childhood. Her belongings had always been treated like communal property.
At the age of seven, she found her favorite sketchbook missing from her desk, only to see Cordy doodling crude cartoons across the pages.
At sixteen, Apollo’s mother had come to school to inspect the academic progress of the five scholarship students she sponsored. Claire’s grades had been the best and she was rewarded with an expensive cashmere sweater. Heimi had immediately borrowed the sweater for an outing with her friends and returned it stained, shrugging off Claire’s protests.
Alden would take her business proposals and ideas without so much as a word. Even the ones that were not viable. He just liked to take and claim credit for them.
James hated the fact that he and Cordy went to public school while she attended private school. So, he stole her diary and read it to all his friends on his birthday.
Each incident seemed small to them, but to Claire, it was theft of her trust, her privacy and sense of ownership. She had learned to lock drawers and keep secrets.
Claire had actually been worried about this becoming a problem with her real family. After all, her grandparents had moved into her house without a heads up, despite having good intentions.
But now, she had a mother who knew how to set boundaries right from the beginning, and that was the best news she had heard all day.
While her brothers promised never to take her things like shoppers in a grocery store, Claire waved her hand dismissively. "Mom, it’s okay, just cook everything. I can’t sell these things if I am not confident about the taste. From now on, a portion of what I catch must be kept for our consumption."
Donna was about to reject the offer when a car pulled in. A few seconds later, Delia rushed into the house.
"Mom, I forgot my perfume." She shouted loudly. "It costs---what is that smell? What are you cooking?"
Every step that drew her closer to the kitchen had everyone’s eyes widen in horror.