Dear Diary,
It's been two weeks since Leo officially became part of our family, and honestly, it feels like he's always been here. Well, except for the fact that he still burns almost everything he touches in the kitchen.
This morning, the house was quieter than usual. The birds outside were chirping their usual symphony, and the sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dancing shadows on the walls. I woke up a little later than normal because, let's face it, Sunday is supposed to be a day of rest. But in the Jones household, Sunday is also sparring day, so "rest" is a bit of a stretch.
When I finally made my way downstairs, the smell of burnt toast hit me like a slap to the face. I didn't even need to look into the kitchen to know who was responsible.
"Leo." I groaned as I walked in, "what did toast ever do to you?"
Leo was standing in front of the toaster, waving a dish towel like it was going to magically fix the charred remains of bread in his hand. "It's not my fault these things burn so fast!"
Sterlin, already sitting at the table and munching on a bowl of cereal, snorted. "It's literally a toaster, Leo. It's got one job, and somehow you make it fail."
Leo shot him a glare. "You want to come over here and do it, smartass?"
"Nope,not my day." Sterlin said, grinning. "Plus, I'm enjoying the show."
I shook my head and pushed Leo out of the way. "Move, Disaster Chef. If you're going to burn breakfast, at least let me supervise."
"Hey, I can handle it!" Leo protested, but he reluctantly stepped aside as I grabbed a new loaf of bread.
"Right." I said, popping a few slices into the toaster. "Handling it is why the smoke detector went off last week."
Leo groaned, running a hand through his messy hair. "It wasn't that bad."
Sterlin nearly choked on his cereal. "You set off the sprinklers, Leo."
"Okay, fine." Leo muttered, crossing his arms. "But this time, I'm not burning anything."
To give Leo credit, he really did try this time. He stood next to me, determined to learn the "art" of not incinerating breakfast. I walked him through the steps, explaining the basics of toasting bread without turning it into charcoal.
"See? Low heat." I said, pointing to the toaster dial. "You don't need to crank it all the way up like you're trying to start a fire."
"Got it." Leo said, nodding like he was absorbing the secrets of the universe.
We moved on to eggs. "Okay, now crack them gently." I instructed.
Leo cracked an egg… directly onto the counter.
"Leo!"
"Sorry!" He scrambled to clean up the mess, his face contorting with embarrassment.
Sterlin leaned back in his chair, watching us with amusement. "This is better than TV."
"Shut up, Sterlin!" Leo and I shouted in unison, which only made him laugh harder.
Eventually, after a lot of trial and error (and me basically taking over), breakfast was ready. Pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, and—miraculously—perfectly toasted bread. Leo beamed like he'd just conquered Mount Everest.
"I didn't burn anything this time!" he said proudly.
"Technically, I didn't burn anything." I corrected.
"Details." he said, waving me off as he carried plates to the table.
Dad came in just as we were setting the table. He looked at the spread and raised an eyebrow. "Leo cooked?"
Sterlin smirked. "Stella cooked. Leo assisted."
"Hey!" Leo protested.
Dad chuckled and sat down. "Well, looks like teamwork is paying off. Nice work, kids."
After breakfast, it was time for sparring. Leo had been adjusting to the family routines pretty well, but sparring was still something he was learning to embrace. He wasn't bad, but Sterlin had years of training on him, and it showed.
I watched from the sidelines as they squared off in the dirt patch behind the basketball court. Sterlin was quick, his movements fluid and calculated, while Leo relied more on brute strength and instincts.
"Keep your guard up!" Dad called from the porch, watching with his usual intensity.
Sterlin feinted to the left and landed a solid jab to Leo's side. "C'mon, Leo, you've gotta anticipate!"
Leo grunted and swung back, his punch missing Sterlin by inches. "I'm trying!"
"Try harder!" Sterlin teased, dodging another swing.
The match went on like this for a while, with Sterlin landing most of the hits but Leo refusing to back down. When Leo finally managed to catch Sterlin with a clean punch, the look of surprise on Sterlin's face was priceless.
"Not bad." Sterlin admitted, shaking it off. "But you're still too slow."
By the end of the match, both of them were covered in dirt and grinning like idiots. Leo flopped onto the grass, laughing as he caught his breath.
"I'm never gonna beat you, am I?" he said, looking up at the sky.
"Not today." Sterlin said, sitting down beside him. "But who knows? You keep practicing, and you might surprise me one day."
For the first time since Leo moved in, his laughter didn't feel forced. It was real, and it filled the air like sunlight breaking through clouds.
As I watched them, I couldn't help but feel grateful. Life wasn't perfect—far from it. But in moments like these, surrounded by family, it felt like we were all learning to be whole again.
-Stella the Storyteller