Page 30 of The Grump I Got Stuck With

“Yay!” Kenna cheered. “More beads!”

“More?” I said playfully.

“The kit didn’t come with very much,” Madison said. “Very beginner friendly, but Kenna is obviously approaching expert levels.”

“Obviously,” I murmured absently, frowning as I stared down at the bracelet on his wrist. I could see the cheap plastic beads, but there were pieces that looked nicer. “This is all out of her kit?”

“No, we needed a couple extra bits and parts to make things work,” Madison said. “The kit didn’t provide any kind of closures, so I took apart some of my own stuff to supplement what we needed.”

I blanched a little at that. “You what?” I couldn’t imagine someone taking apart their own jewelry to appease a four-year-old.

“Don’t worry. It was nothing expensive or sentimental. Just some pieces I’d made myself. It’s actually a hobby of mine—jewelry making. Keeps my hands busy on rainy days. So trust me. I know firsthand that there’s never enough lobster clasps to go around.”

Kenna grabbed my wrist, playing with the clasp. “Madison said this is a lobster!”

“Lobster clasp,” Madison said, grinning.

Kenna made pinchy fingers, holding them up to me. “See, Daddy?”

“You’re right. It does look like a lobster claw.” I turned to Madison. “You didn’t have to do that.”

She lifted her shoulder, sorting through the mess on the island. “I didn’t mind. But let me know if you want a list of what to order for her.”

“I will,” I said, setting Kenna down on the stool. “And I’ll replace the jewelry you took apart.”

“That’s really not necessary—it’s fine,” she said. “I’d have taken it apart myself eventually and built something else. It’s fun to change things up and I love that I have that option.”

Madison kept her head down and I couldn’t tell if I’d made her uncomfortable or if she was upset that I’d said no about the outing. I wanted to make things right for the both of them.

“I know I said no about the cat café, but there’s a winter festival in town in a couple weeks,” I said, the firmness in my tone making it clear that I’d made up my mind. “I’ve heard it attracts local artisans from around the region. I’m sure some of them are bound to have jewelry. I’ll buy you some new pieces.”

“No, it’s okay⁠—”

“I insist.”

I watched her emotions flit across her face. Annoyance that I was being so imperious. But a part of her looked a bit pleased and I wanted to see more of that.

I took the paper crown off my head and set it on hers. “You’ll need something to match your crown.”

Princess turned circles between us, barking incessantly.

I frowned down at the dog. “Maybe we’ll even find a muzzle.”

Madison started to frown at that, but when Kenna chimed in with a drawn out, “Daaaad,” we both laughed.

But then, something caught my eye.

“Is my daughter covered in glitter?”

Kenna held her palms up, a cheeky grin curling across her face. With all the paper jewelry, I hadn’t noticed until now that her hands absolutely sparkled. And if I knew one thing about glitter, it somehow multiplied exponentially and got absolutely everywhere. I glanced down at my shoulder, spying a flash of sparkle where Kenna had touched my dress shirt. I turned my unimpressed look on Madison, whose cheeks pinked as she gave me a sheepish look.

“In my defense,” she said, “this was a crafting afternoon. There have been zero screens involved and many fine motor skills developed.”

“But was glitter really necessary?” I grumbled.

“It was a vital part of the process, actually,” she insisted. “You can’t have paper crowns without glitter. What kind of operation do you think I’m running?”

I grimaced as Kenna rubbed at her cheek, leaving a smear of sparkle behind. Christ, cleanup is going to be a bloody nightmare. “Okay, you,” I said to her. “Time for a bath before you cover the whole house in glitter.”