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“Do you do that often?”
“Only when they're looking for stuff for Michael. Shopping for boys is so boring.”
“Your mom is probably really worried.”
“Probably.”
My first thought was to call Saffron, but I didn't want to wake her from her nap so I reached for my phone and called Bastian. He was probably with Callie’sdad. “Heybeautiful.”
“Hi. Is Broderick with you?”
“Yeah. What's up?”
“Could you tell him I have Callie? She seems to have run off from her mom.”
I heard Bastian relay the news and heard Broderick's voice seconds before Bastian came back on the line. “Can you keep her with you? We're on our way.”
“Sure.”
I hung up as Callie steadily watched me. “Who's Bastian?”
“My fiancé.”
“Oh.”
“He's working with Broderick at his house.”
“Uncle Broderick, is he coming for me?” Uncle Broderick? If Logan and Broderick were both her uncles, then was this Dante's child?
“Yes.”
“Cool.”
She walked around me and looked at my painting, but judging by the wrinkling of her nose, my skills clearly did not impress her. I was tasked to keep her here. How to do that? Then inspiration struck and I reached into my case for a pencil.
“Would you mind if I sketched you?”
“Me? Really?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
She toed the soil again, so I asked,“Do you like playing in the dirt?”
Her little face lit up. “Yes.”
“Well, why don't you play in the dirt and I'll sketch you.”
“That's a good idea,” she said before she plopped her butt down and immediately pulled both of her hands through the loose soil of the garden bed. I turned over a new sheet of paper and got started—her little cheeks round, her nose pert, her lips pinched as she concentrated. Unlike when I sketched Bastian, smudging the lines to soften her neck and chin didn't cause me to blush. When her face was perfect, I moved to her corkscrew curls: shading to add the dimension of color in those blond strands.
Her hands took a bit of time to perfect, because they were the most adorable little hands, short of finger and chubby of palm with dimples at her knuckles. I was careful to capture the detail of the dirt that stained them.
I didn't know how long we sat there. Callie was so engrossed in her play, she never once looked up at me. When I was done, I looked around the easel at her.
“Do you want to see it, Callie?”
She glanced up at me, but then her focus moved beyond me. I turned my head to see Broderick and Bastian, Logan and Saffron and two people I didn't recognize, but, based on the relief in their expressions, they had to be Callie's parents.
