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Isabella squeezes her eyes shut, and the whole thing makes me smile. This is yarn we’re dealing with, not gum. But how to tell a kid this and keep her calm at the same time?
“I’m sorry, Isabella! I was going for three hearts, not six knots…” June’s voice trails off as she wipes away a running tear with the back of her hand.
“Oh, it’s not about what you handle,” I say, directing my question at the girl before shaking my head and shooting Isabella a look that’s way more confident than I feel.
What if I do have to cut it out? I look at Isabella’s father, currently yelling the same two words like he’s at home on his couch. There’s no way I’m not going to play taxi driver tonight. I just know it.
“It’s not?” June asks. The hope in her voice gives me courage. There’s no way I’m ending the night convincing a little girl she’d look cute with a bob.
“Not even a little,” I reply. “It’s about what these six knots can handle.” I point to the mess of gnarled yarn dangling from a thick lock of hair.
“Just to say,” Tina speaks up, her ink-stained palms outstretched and gesturing toward the ground. The international sign for ‘let’s all just be level-headed about this.’ “It does look like three hearts from a certain angle.”
“Tina, why don’t you shine this light on her hair for me? Okay?” I navigate to my cell phone’s flashlight and hand it to my well-meaning niece.
“Got it. I can do that,” she says, and I wonder how much of the statement is to herself.
“What should I do?” June asks.
“Looks like you’ve done enough from here!” a kid calls from somewhere in the arcade section of Great Cheese Nation. I glare in the general direction of the comment, though I can’t be sure which one of the myriad snickering boys actually yelled the comment.
“Don’t listen to them,” Isabella cuts in. “If Tina says it looks like a heart from a certain angle, it looks like a heart from a certain angle.”
“I’m sorry,” June says, grabbing her friend’s hand and squeezing it.
“Me, too,” Isabella replies.
“You can cut my hair if you want to,” she offers, and the famous last words hit me like a wave of inspiration.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell them. “I’ll need one little tool and this will all be over.”
I smile like the fairy godmother I totally am and make my way to the bar. A pair of scissors is perfect, actually. Now that I think about it. I just need to snip off the dangling knots and go from there.
At the bar, I see Jaromir and Coach Hill chatting with their backs to me. Both orcs are towering and broad. Easy on the eyes, too. But there’s something about Jaromir that pulls at me.
Thinking about him leaves me hot, even when the memory is of him doing something risky. He’s the epitome of boys will be boys, though in the most innocent way.
“We’re sneaking around now, but only because this is new,” he says, his voice loud enough for all to hear. I don’t need him to say more to assume he’s talking about me. I watch Jaromir take a deep swig from his plastic drink cup and want to throw a handful of soggy carpet-popcorn to shut him up.
How long has he been talking to Hill about our relationship? What part of ‘secret’ does he not get? I back away slowly, choosing instead to brave the gaggle of slurring dads for a pocket knife and preferably Swiss Army.
I’m in luck, and after faking a smile to both returning orcs, I use the tiny scissors attached to Howard’s like-new army knife to snip away the knots in Isabella’s hair.
I’m glad Jaromir and Hill took the time to call the dads’ wives. Once the last kid is picked up, I’m back home and seething.
Ryan and Tina have been in bed now for over an hour, and I’d eat my foot right off if either were still up. Ryan played hard, both on the ice and at the arcade. And Tina’s always had a pension for falling asleep easily, once she commits to closing her eyes, of course. She’s the only person I know who thinks counting sheep actually works.
I’m outside.I frown at the smiley face and lips that accompany the message. We knew better than to mingle more than we needed to at dinner. Our conversations always included someone else and ended as soon as that person did, too.
I’ll be right down,I reply and don’t wait for a response. He’s probably expecting to climb up the trellises like last time. But that’s for lovers who respect the wishes of others. And in this case, maybe even the safety.
Coach Hill and Tina are the only two people who know about Jar and I. It doesn’t take the greatest federal agent in the history of Quantico’s training program to connect the dots. Hillcouldbe my admirer, especially if Jaromir’s been loose-lipped from the start.
I don’t want to think it, but Coach Hill does know where I live, as well as my schedule. And not only that, he has access to everywhere I’ve found a trinket or note. All it would take the orc is a little bit of planning to pull it off.
“Tell me I don’t smell like beer,” Jaromir begins, stepping toward me with his arms open. “I had to drop off two of the dads, and they super-soaked me. Don’t ask how they pulled it off. It’s a long story that involves bribery.”
“Why are you telling Hill about us?” I figure the best thing to do is ask the question like I’d rip off a Band-Aid — quickly and without hesitation. It’s better that way under both circumstances. Maybe even especially this one.
