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“That much is true.” A beat then her voice grew softer. “Now go kick butt on your first day back, honey.”
“As if I would do anything else.”
She hung up to the sound of Auntie Pat’s laughter.
And then she got out of her car, walked into the emergency department, and set about kicking butt.
Ten
Connor
Atug on his hand had him glancing down at the tiny human beside him.
“Come and help me,” Cole demanded, all but dragging Connor across the sand to the massive sandcastle he and Rylie—his big buddy at school—were building.
Rylie was a few years older, but she was many years beyond her age in sandcastle crafting.
Lots of practice.
But also, lots of minions to order around so that her vision was enacted exactly as she’d anticipated.
“Where do you want me, bud?”
“At the train station.”
Connor smothered a grin. “You mean thechoo-choostation?”
Cole sighed, shook his head. “It’s thetrainstation, Uncle Connor,” he said sagely. “Only babies call them choo-choos.”
“Really?” he asked, picking up the shovel and digging where his nephew pointed.
“Yup.”
“Where’d you learn that?”
“From school.”
“Hmm.”
“But Mom says I can call them choo-choos as long as I want.”
“She’s right.”
“And then she said if anyone has a problem with that, they…uh…” His brow wrinkled, head tilting up to the sky as he searched for the words. “That they can go suck a watermelon!”
That Connor stumped him for a minute. He couldn’t lie.
At least until he got it.
“She said they could go suck a lemon?” he asked.
“Yup.” Cole shrugged, like that was what he’d just said. “But I like calling them trains,” he said, shoveling sand into a bucket like the professional he was. “It’s easier.”
“Shorter definitely.”
Cole smiled up at him. “Yup. Shorter.” A point of his shovel. “Dig there. We need to connect the sides.”
Properly turned into a minion, Connor dug where he was told.
