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“Let’s do parfaits today instead,” Ruby said. She tried to feed Olivia healthy food most of the time and there were few foods more nutritionally bankrupt than pancakes. “We have strawberries.”
“We do?” Olivia asked, her eyes wide.
“We do.” Ruby wished she could afford to buy the fresh organic strawberries, but they were cheaper frozen and Olivia liked to spoon them on pancakes and parfaits after Ruby microwaved them.
“Yay!” Olivia said. “I’ll get the yogurt.”
Ruby started for the kitchen. “I guess that means I’m on strawberry duty.”
She spent the next hour putting the ingredients out for Olivia’s breakfast — part of the fun was letting her make her own parfait — and taking a shower. She was pulling her hair up into a ponytail for work when her dad arrived, carrying a new book for Olivia.
“Hi, Dad,” Ruby said, kissing his cheek. His face was red, his hair windblown. “Is it cold out there?”
“Not too cold for a walk to Billy’s,” her dad said.
Billy’s Hot Dog Cart was legendary in Harlem, and there was nothing Ruby’s dad loved more than taking Olivia for hot dogs and shooting the shit with Billy on the street.
Ruby laughed. “I just gave her yogurt instead of pancakes because the yogurt is more nutritious.”
“Then a hot dog’s not going to hurt, is it Livie?” He scooped up Olivia and turned her upside down,
She squealed. “Hot dogs, hot dogs, hot dogs!”
“The leprechaun has spoken,” Ruby’s dad said, setting Olivia down. It was one of the many ways he teased Olivia about being small.
Olivia grinned and put her hands on her hips. “I amnota leprechaun, Grampa!”
“I’m going to let you two hash this out,” Ruby said. She looked at her dad. “One hot dog and a single scoop of ice cream.”
“Who said anything about ice cream?” he asked, the picture of feigned innocence.
Ruby shook her head with a laugh. “We both know you’re going to follow up Billy’s with a double scoop at Sugar Hill.”
“One scoop,” her dad said. “Scout’s honor.”
She had just crossed in front of him to kiss Olivia goodbye when she caught him winking at Olivia.
“You have your fingers crossed behind your back, don’t you Grampa?” Olivia asked.
“No,” he said. “What makes you say that?”
Olivia giggled and Ruby scooped her up. She smoothed her messy hair and kissed her baby-soft cheek. “Be good for Grampa.”
“I will.”
Ruby set her daughter down and kissed her dad’s cheek. “Thanks, Dad.”
She didn’t really care about the hot dogs and ice cream. She’d learned a long time ago that if you were going to rely on a village to help raise your child, you couldn’t nitpick the way they did it.
“Anytime, love,” her dad said. “Have a good day at work.”
“Thanks, I will.”
She was halfway down the stairs when her phone buzzed.
Her pulse ticked up a notch as she dug her phone out of her bag. Maybe it was Roman.
But it wasn’t Roman. It was Adam.
