AUTHOR'S NOTE: I delve into a bit of Sophia's practically nonexistent background in this particular story. Needless to say, it's not canon. On that note, I'd like to mention some brief OC appearances in this story, to avoid confusion. Sophia's mother and sisters are OC's, as well as Melissa's parents (and Melissa's maiden name is something I came up with. It's not canon), and Lady Baden-Baden's niece is an OC as well.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
The loud metallic noise was giving Cyril a splitting headache. His granddaughter, Evelyn, was at it again, banging pots and pans together in the kitchen. Cyril's four-year-old grandson, Forest, used to do the same thing when he was Evelyn's age. Cyril hated it then, and he probably would go on hating it, if Cedric and Sophia had more kids, which Cyril was secretly hoping they wouldn't. Two grandchildren were enough.
Cyril finally couldn't take anymore. He got up, and went into the kitchen. The Pigs, who were supposed to be watching the kids, were sitting at the kitchen table with Forest, drawing pictures with crayons.
"Hi, Gampa!" Forest shouted.
"Yeah, hi," Cyril grumbled, and he yanked the wooden spoon Evelyn was using for a drumstick out of her hand. Evelyn burst into tears.
"Now don't you start that," Cyril said, picking her up. "I'm trying to get some work done here, and I don't need any more noise! Pigs!"
No answer. The Pigs just continued coloring. Cyril was not pleased at this. He hated it when his employees ignored him.
"PIGS!" he screamed at the top of his voice, right behind Lloyd.
"They can't hear you, Gampa," Forest said, picking up a crayon. "They put cotton in their ears when Evelyn started drumming."
"You stupid swine," Cyril mumbled at the Pigs. Then he took Evelyn out of the room and went back to his office. Boyd took a cotton ball out of one of his ears and looked around.
"Was someone calling us?" he asked.
Cyril sat down in his chair with the baby on his lap and sighed.
"Your mother or your father had better get back here soon," he grumbled. "I can't take much more of you kids banging those darn pots and pans together."
Evelyn babbled something in baby talk, and smacked her hands on Cyril's desk. Cyril groaned.
"Why do you kids have to like anything that makes noise?" he asked.
"Hi, Pop," Cedric said, coming into the room. Cedric took Evelyn from his father, and gave her a kiss. "Hi, Evelyn."
"You talk to her as if she's gonna answer you, Cedric," Cyril said. "You know she can't talk yet. About time you got back. What took you so long?"
"Lady Baden-Baden came by the cafe and started talking about her latest social event," Cedric said.
"Wonderful," Cyril said, sarcastically. "And just what am I going to have to be roped into doing now?"
"Actually, you're off the hook, Pop. Lady Baden-Baden was talking about a Father-Daughter dance."
Cyril looked up at Cedric, a bit shocked.
"Run that by me again," he said.
"Lady Baden-Baden wants to do a Father-Daughter dance," Cedric repeated.
"That's what I thought you said. Good. The less I have to do at one of Lady Baden-Baden's get togethers, the better! Now that you're back, Cedric, let's get some work done!"
"Sure, Pop."
Cedric sat down at the table and began to go through the accounts. He had Evelyn on his lap, and he gave her a pen and a blank piece of paper to scribble on. That would keep her busy for a little while, at least until he got a chance to take a break. When Cyril wanted to get his work done, he wanted it to get done right away, baby or no baby. After a few moments, the phone rang.
"Hello?" he asked. Then he paused for a moment. "Just a second. Cedric, get Sofa Girl in here."
"Sure, Pop," Cedric said, getting up. He returned a few minutes later with Sophia behind him. Cyril handed her the phone.
"Try not to take all day with it," he grumbled.
"Hello?" Sophia said, ignoring Cyril. "Mom! Hi! Oh it's the same old same old over here. Uh huh. Cedric and the kids are fine. Well . . . . oh, gosh, Mom, I'm not sure. Well, Mr. Sneer can be pretty . . . . uhhh . . . . well, he's right here in the room, Mom, but I don't think he would . . . . okay, hang on a second. Mr. Sneer?"
"What?" Cyril asked, sounding impatient.
"Well, my mother wants to know if it's okay with you if she and my sisters drop over," Sophia said.
"Your mother and your sisters. How many?"
"Just two. One older sister and one younger sister. Mom wants to see the kids, and my sisters are dying to meet them, and Cedric."
"All right. Just speed it up with this phone call, will you?!"
"Thanks," Sophia said, and she went back to the phone. "Okay, Mom, it's all set. Okay. See you tomorrow. Bye."
Sophia hung up the phone and left the office. Cyril sighed, and began looking for the newspaper.
"You've met Sofa Girl's mother," he said. "What am I in for, Cedric?"
"I don't know, Pop," Cedric said. "I mean, what I think of her might not be exactly what you think of her. But in any case, I think she's a nice lady."
"What do you know about her sisters?"
"I've never met them before. But Sophia talks about them all the time. She told me her older sister is a certified genius."
"I find that a bit hard to believe, considering the last time I checked in between Sofa Girl's ears, there was a sign in there that said This Space For Rent."
"Pop!"
"Just a little joke, son."
"Well, anyway, she also told me her younger sister is into sports. Way into sports. She's captain of her local baseball team."
Cyril nodded, and said nothing more. Then he and Cedric went back to work.