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Apparently, everyone here was fluent in the behavior of this kid, aside from me. Hell, sometimes I don’t feel like talking. Doesn’t mean anything other than I don’t feel like talking.
“Yes, ma’am,” Gracie said, and she gave a small smile.
“Great, well, you enjoy yourselves. We got some new things in this morning, so go wander around and check it out.”
She waved and walked toward the cash register.
Brinkley followed Gracie down an aisle with a whole lot of pink shit, and her phone buzzed.
“Oh. It’s John Jones fromFootball Livecalling,” she gasped.
“Go take it outside. I’ve got this.”
“Okay. Thank you. I’ll be right back, Gracie. Stay with Links.”
Gracie nodded as Brinkley darted out of the store. We came to a stop in front of a pair of pink cowboy boots.
“Do you like those?” I asked as she studied them.
“I do. But that’s a fancy present.” She picked one up and smiled at it.
“I think we should try those on.” I bent down and unbuckled her navy school shoes and looked on the bottom for the size before finding a pair of boots of the same size. She held onto my shoulder with her tiny hands, and I helped her slip into them.
“Preston told me that I’m weird because my dog’s name is Bob Picklepants.” She shrugged. Was this some sort of little girl confessional? I didn’t know what was happening, but I’d go with it.
“Preston sounds like a tool. I like the name Bob Picklepants. And there’s nothing weird about you, Gracie Reynolds. I say you rock these pink boots at school tomorrow and ignore him.”
Her brows cinched as if she were considering saying something but wasn’t sure. “He said I’m weird because I don’t have a mama, too.”
My motherfucking chest tightened so much it was painful. I took her little hand in mine as I remained bent down so I could look into her dark eyes that were so similar to Brinkley’s. They were watering just the slightest bit, and I wanted to beat the fuck out of this Preston kid for hurting her.
“Do you know that I didn’t have a dad growing up? And I’m certainly not weird, am I? I think it makes us extra cool because we’ve got one parent that loves us enough for two. Not many people can say that.”
Her eyes widened, and her lips turned up in the corners with a genuine smile as she used the back of her hand to wipe away the single tear that had just rolled down her cheek. This little girl was something special.
“You’re not weird, Links. We’re both extra cool,” she said, as if I’d just fixed all her problems.
I wanted to drive right down to that school tomorrow and give Preston a piece of my fucking mind.
Kids, man. They could be brutal.
“I think that pink hat would look awfully cute on you with the boots,” I said, because now she was looking down at her feet and smiling.
“I can’t get two prizes in one day,” she said. “That’s not the rules.”
“Well, I’m here today. I think we should get a couple of things.” I reached for the hat, but before I placed it on her, she tugged at her two little buns sitting on her head.
“We needs to take these out first or the hat won’t fit. Can you help me?”
I gently tried to remove the elastic from each one, but I didn’t want to yank her hair. She shocked me when she placed a hand on my cheek and smiled. “You won’t hurt me, Links. Daddy says I’m the toughest girl around, next to Auntie Brinks.”
I chuckled as her hair sprung loose and dark spiral curls fell down around her shoulders. I plopped the hat on her head and pushed to stand all the way up.
I’d never even known that tiny humans could be this adorable.
She hurried to the mirror and gasped.
“I look extra cool, don’t I, Links?”
