She tugs on Junie’s shirt but can’t get it off either. Junie wails, and I rush to help, calling, “undo the buttons in the back!”
By the time I reach them, Frankie’s found the buttons on Junie’s shirt and almost has her disentangled from the mess she’s gotten herself into. I step back as she frees Junie from the shirt, then shushes her gently.
“Shirt’s gone!” Frankie tosses her hands in the air, and I dodge the flying shirt “All better.”
Junie sniffles and tries to smile, but when her eyes meet mine, she breaks down again. “Daddy!”
Frankie catches her as she reaches for me, then passes her to me. “We had a little water spill.”
“More of a waterfall,” Larry grumbles behind me, and I glance over my shoulder to where he’s stacking wet napkins in a pile.
Flo shoots me an annoyed look from behind the order window that I quickly turn away from, only to meet the stares of every customer in the diner. With a reassuring wave I say, “She’s alright.”
“I wet,” Junie’s words come out in a staggered cry.
Flo growls and mumbles something that sounds like, “Better only be water wet, or I’ll have the health department after me.”
“Your clothes will dry, love.” Frankie rubs big circles around Junie’s back.
I look at her, remembering—not for the first time in the past week—how calm she was while Jasmine was foaling. I hardly had words out of my mouth before she knew what I needed.She was nervous, but she didn’t panic. I trusted her without question even though I’d never seen her with a horse.
I’ve seen her with Junie enough times since then to recognize she’s good with her. I'm not sure how much time she’s spent with other kids, but more than once, Frankie’s picked up on what Junie needed without being told or asked.
With Junie buried in my shoulder, sniffling, I slip the backpack off my shoulder and hand it to Frankie. “There’s a spare outfit in there. Would you mind getting it for me?”
Frankie takes the Junie bag, nearly tipping over from the weight of it. She drops it to the floor and unzips it. As the flaps fall open, she sends me an amused look.
“What?”
She shakes her head. “I shouldn’t be surprised after seeing your OB tote.”
I follow her eyes to the carefully packed and stacked snack containers, extra outfits in labeled plastic bags, Pull-ups, wipes, extra plastic bags, two sippy cups—one for water, one for juice—a First Aid kit, a tiara, and cat ears—just in case.
Frankie holds up two plastic bags labeledExtra Outfits, and I nudge Junie to lift her head.
“Pink or blue?” I ask, and when she points to the blue, Frankie hands me that bag then holds up a third bag labeledPanties.
“Which panties?” I ask
“Booey.”
“Which Bluey?”
“Bingo.” Junie points to Bingo’s face on her panties visible through the clear bag.
“Couldn't tell ya which are Bingo,” Frankie says while holding open the panties bag for me.
“You don’t know who Bingo is?” I say with mock surprise as I pull out the Bingo panties and hold them up for her to see.
“Guess I need a tutorial.” Frankie’s voice lifts with what could be an invitation, but I'm not sure if it’s for Junie or me.
“Junie would be thrilled to give you all the Blueylessons you want. Right, Bug?” I ask and Junie nods excitedly before launching into the first lesson.
Frankie listens and nods, but when her eyes drift to mine, I take my chance and in a low voice, mutter, “I’ll find something else to tutor you in.”
“Promise?” Frankie’s brow rises in a slow arch.
“Promise.”
