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“Sydie Bean,” she called, Mike couldn’t keep from smiling.
“That her, Turbo?” he questioned.
“What can I say, she was being silly and I somehow messed up her name and she liked it.”
“I do too.”
“It’s your Daddy,” Turbo said.
“Daddy?” Syd questioned. “You’re done fighting the bad guys already?”
“No, baby girl, but you know Turbo said I shouldn’t make you wait because you’re a big girl now and can understand sometimes I get to rest.”
“I’m going to bed soon,” she explained. “Turbo is reading me the Magic Tree House books here.”
“That’s great.” Mike had to hold back the emotions for fear of her hearing his uncertainty about the future. “Heard you were having fun at school.”
“Yeah, I am and I don’t want to go back to my old one,” she stated. “Will mommy be mad if I don’t want to go back? I don’t want her mad, but I like it here better.”
“Your mommy will be happy if you are,” he replied, praying her mother never found out where she was. “Hey, you know how Turbo’s been taking care of you?”
“Yeah, she’s really good at it, even if she messes up, she fixes it and doesn’t say it’s my fault.”
“That’s awesome.” His throat tightened thinking of the dark place his little girl had been living in. “Any chance you’d be willing to let her help me for a few days. It might make it so I can come home sooner.”
“But she will come home right?”
“We both will,” he said, a resolve building up inside him.
“It won’t be too long and you’re going to Maisie’s anyway tomorrow.”
“Can I bring a story? Maisie’s older and she’d read it to me.”
“Yes,” Turbo said. “Now say goodnight to your dad and go get in bed.”
“She sounds like a whole other kid,” he admitted as heat spread across his chest.
“Told you she’s been doing good,” Turbo’s conviction one he could practically feel wrapping around him. “You made the right choice to bring her here.”
“Now I need to make a better one,” he said. “I’ll be waiting for you tomorrow, Turbo.”
* * *
Maybe she was crazy, but Porsche couldn’t wait to get to the clubhouse. When was the last time a man made her this anxious? The emergency pills she took during her mild breakdown reminded her she needed the daily dose. Fear of a cloudy brain was very different than an actual one and Doc had finally found the right one for her body chemistry. Now it was up to Porsche to maintain and with Sydie Bean, there was a reason. With a bump and squeal of rubber on pavement they finally landed at the airport. Knowing this couldn’t be more than a few days she only had a carry on, but her last minute ticket had her near the back. She wanted to jump up, grab her bag and take off down the aisle. Sadly, so did most the aisle seated passengers and instead of rushing off she was stuck, staring out at the row of planes, watching one load in luggage. Her feet bouncing to the point they were floating.
“You have a transfer?” the man sitting next to her asked. “Or smuggling drugs?”
“What?” Porsche bit.
“You’re anxious like you have to run across the concourse for a flight leaving in ten minutes.”
“Or I have a colon full of crack. Well sorry, neither, I really want to get to my ride,” she growled. “And everyone is standing in the aisle waiting for a door that may never open. Have you ever thought about the fact we could all be in a twisted scenario where the door never opens and we—”
She caught herself spiraling as the man’s face and body language were practically calling for a straight jacket.
“My mind catastrophizes a little too much,” she said. “I don’t want my ride having to loop and she’s waiting for me.”
“Okay,” he said then pointed at the fact the line was finally moving and she got up and popped the overhead bin to get her luggage before digging out her crossbody purse from her backpack.
