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“I do,” said Mabel quickly. “My home wasn’t that great, honestly.” She paused. “Daddy?”
“Yes, honey?”
“What’s today, by the way?”
“What do you mean?”
“Red day or green day? Because, you know, I’m feeling pretty good. Other than my hand. So… this day can be red as you like. And I don’t think we need to bother with amber days anymore, Daddy. I like to keep things simple.”
“Not such a brat after all, are you,” he said, smiling and mussing her hair. “But you’re going to need to stick to green days for a while, darling. At least until the stitches come out.”
Mabel nodded. “Alright then. Cartoons and pajamas for a week in that case!”
“Not sure about that,” said Rip, grinning. “We have a new business venture to prepare for.”
She screwed up her nose. “What exactlyisour business going to be, Daddy?”
“All in good time,” he says, helping Mabel climb out of bed. “I’ll give you twenty-four hours of pajama time first. And then I’ll show you.”
CHAPTER 16
“Sothisis what green days are like!” Mabel said, stretching her body out happily as she lay on the couch.
She had cartoons playing on Rip’s laptop, while he swept the place on his hands and knees.
“I need to get a vacuum cleaner,” he grumbled.
She could see how happy he was, though. He’d put dinner in the oven — some kind of hearty stew with meat and beans and veggies in — and he’d decorated the table with a vase of cut flowers. Over time, he said, he’d like Mabel to help out with the interior design. At the moment it looked very stark and masculine, but he told her he was planning on building an extension to the cabin: a military memorabilia room for him, and a palace room for her. He wasn’t joking, either. Told her he’d build her a throne and paint it gold, and make a dungeon for naughty minions.
It was funny to see such a dominating man on his knees for her like this. Serving her, making her feel like his queen. He even let her wave a magic wand made of a willow twig and turn him into a frog earlier. He ribbited around the kitchen for ten full minutes before she changed him back.
“I think I could quite happily live on green days forever,” she said. “Green days are the best days.”
Rip looked at her sternly. “You won’t get out of red days that easily, young lady,” he warned her. “Just as soon as Dr. Tammy says those stitches are ready to come out…”
Mabel pouted but she wasn’t really angry.
“In fact,” Rip said, “I should probably do a health check on you soon. Make sure there’s no sign of a temperature brewing.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re talking about the butt thermometer?” Mabel said, hiding her ass with a cushion. “I promise you, my temperature’s fine. In fact, I’m really feeling much, much better. Maybe we could….”
“Not a chance,” Rip said, standing up, brushing the dust off his pants with the palms of his hand. “Not until you’re fully recovered, and we’ve straightened out everything else.”
“Like what?” Mabel asked, frowning.
He looked at her. “I think you’re well enough to take a little walk.”
*
“Hmmm,” she said. “I’d kinda hoped I’d never have to bother going this way again.”
Rip squeezed her good hand. “Be patient, sweetheart. It’s not what you think. We’re going back to your old place, but… you’ll see.”
As they turned the corner, Rip felt a sting of tension in his gut. He hoped she was into this idea as much as he was.
When Mabel saw the old blacksmiths shack, she gasped. “What the heck?” she said. “That sign above the door…”
Rip looked up at the sign, pleased with his handiwork. While she’d been in hospital recuperating, he’d gotten busy. He’d asked Haze and Angel to help fix up the shack a little, filling in some of the holes, replacing rotten boards and putting in a couple proper windows. Then, over the old blacksmiths sign, Rip had painted: “Rip and Mabel’s Puppet Theater.”
