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“This is a horse, not a donkey, Harper.”
She took a closer look.
Damn, it was a horse.
“Horses are donkey cousins,” she replied, hoping she was right.
“Who gets the piano?” Oscar asked, studying the lone eraser.
She stared at the teeny-tiny black and white keys. “I’m not sure.”
Phoebe looked past her and gawked at Landon. “What’s that in your pocket, Landon? Did you bring presents, too?”
“What?” the man quipped, then gasped, and stuffed a scrap of black lace back into his pocket.
This roller coaster of a day wasn’t done with her yet.
“Holy shit,” she uttered.
She knew that scrap of lace.
“There’s another bad word. You’re worse than my dad,” Oscar commented, then tapped his foot to demonstrate how to curse without saying the word.
But she couldn’t worry about her child-unfriendly language.
“Are those fancy underpants in your pocket?” Phoebe asked, eyeing Landon and doling out one whopper of a question.
The man turned a shade reminiscent of dirty dishwater. “No, it’s a…doily. A black doily.”
A doily?
Oscar scrunched up his face. “What’s a doily?”
“It’s a little lacy placemat,” Landon stammered.
He had her panties in his pocket.
Her panties!
“Can we see it?” Oscar asked.
Landon’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “No, it’s a private doily.”
Who carried around women’s panties?
She should have been disgusted or freaked out, but she wasn’t. It was oddly hot.
“Your private doily looks like the stuff in Penny’s fancy underpants drawer,” Phoebe replied.
Oscar perked up. “My Charlotte has one of those drawers.”
“Mibby, too,” Sebastian chimed.
“You know about that drawer?” Penny asked the little girl.
“I go through the drawers because I’m trying to find that book on a high shelf you keep talking about, but you never have a book. So, I figured it was lost.”
“You should see all the hot dog torpedoes Mibby’s got in her drawer,” Sebastian added.
