“But Uncle Hyde, how are we going to see?” Blake, Geoff’s oldest son, asked. A little younger than Beth, he was a good kid but as serious as his father.
“Candles!” Della squeaked and clapped her hands.
I could picture the cabin going up in flames, and I shuddered. “No, sweet pea. We’ll use flashlights.”
“But Papa—” She thrust out her lower lip.
“Didn’t we get some of those battery-powered candles?” Hyde mentioned. “You can use those.”
That pleased the girls and calmed all the children enough to disregard the storm going on around us.
* * * *
Because we had a propane stove, I was able to make hot chocolate for everyone while Hyde got out the imitation candles, and after everyone had their hot chocolate, he turned on the candles and gave one to each of the kids.
“Ready, set, go!”
The children shouted and scattered, and my husband joined me by the kitchen counter.
“How long will that keep them occupied?” he asked.