Mickey squeals with laughter, twisting slightly beneath her arm. “Mama! Again!”

Bette looks down at him and sighs.

Tina laughs as Bette carries Mickey toward the island.

“Come on, little man,” Bette murmurs, finally turning him upright and settling him onto his booster seat. “Let’s see if we can manage breakfast without another wrestling match.”

Mickey grins up at her. “I’m fast, Mama!”

Bette straightens his collar and sighs. “Yes, sweetheart. You are terrifyingly fast.” She leans down and kisses the top of his curly head, then moves behind Angie and presses a kiss into her daughter’s hair. “Morning again, baby girl.”

Angie, who has reluctantly started eating her toast, lifts her head. “Mama, I want Toaster Strudels.”

Bette pauses, furrows her brows, and looks down at her daughter. “What is that, baby?”

Angie’s expression brightens instantly. “It’s like a pastry filled with gooey fruit jelly, and you put it in the toaster, and then you squeeze frosting on top when it’s all hot and stuff.”

Bette wrinkles her nose. “I’ve never heard of that, sweetie.”

Tina takes a leisurely sip of coffee, watching the exchange with considerable amusement.

Angie leans forward hopefully. “Can we buy some?”

Bette doesn’t hesitate. “No.” She walks over to the coffee maker and reaches for her mug.

Angie’s shoulders slump. “Awww…” She lets out a quiet, disappointed groan, then turns back to her plate.

Tina gently chuckles, earning a mildly betrayed look from her daughter.

“What?” Tina asks innocently.

Angie narrows her eyes. “You said if Mama said yes.”

“And did Mama say yes?”

Angie sighs. “No.”

Tina smiles sweetly. “Well, there you go, baby.”

Angie shakes her head and returns to her breakfast, clearly unimpressed with the outcome of her negotiations.

Across the kitchen, Bette pours herself a generous cup of coffee and takes her first grateful sip of the morning.

Tina watches her for a moment, admiring the way Bette’s shoulders finally relax as the caffeine begins working its magic. She steps closer and playfully tugs on the bottom of Bette’s suit jacket. “Sounds like a record morning for you and Mickey.”

Bette turns, laughing at Tina’s teasing. “Mm, and then I have to come in here and deal with a sexy smart-ass over my coffee.”

Tina grins. “Poor baby.”