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Mosely is rubbing his ears and I feel almost guilty. I should probably get him some earplugs for the future.
I’m about to climb out of the car so I can open Yaya’s door when I feel a soft touch on my arm. There’s hesitance in her eyes, but she tips her chin up bravely.
“Before we go in, I think we should talk about something,” she signs.
I hold my breath, wondering if she’ll bring up the kiss.
“About Talia.”
“Oh.” I shift gears. “Go ahead.”
“Have you heard of ‘good cop, bad cop’?”
I ask her to repeat more slowly and concentrate on her finger spelling. When she’s done, I nod in understanding and repeat the sign.
“Good cop, bad cop.”
“I know Talia might feel a bit territorial over her uncle,” Yaya signs. “Would you be okay if we try something?”
I consider it hesitantly.
“Bad cop?” I point to my chest.
“Good cop.” She points to herself.
I rub the back of my neck. Talia’s been spoiled by everyone since the day she was born, and I’m the biggest culprit. She rarely hears no from me. As evidenced by the giant princess watch I wear everyday just because she asked.
“If you don’t want to…”
“No.” I give her an assuring smile, despite the way my heart is squeezing. “Let’s give it a try.”
Yaya looks touched and I tell myself it’s worth it, even if it fails.
We walk into the school together.
Mosely is behind, carrying a giant gift basket that I ordered early this morning.
Yaya glances at the gift that’s bigger than my assistant. “Bribery?”
“Peace offering.”
She laughs.
The anxiety currently pressing through my veins is carried away by her smile.
The bell rings and classroom doors fly open. A sea of students rush the hallway all at once. A little kid charges at us, gunning toward the bathrooms. I slip a hand around Yaya’s waist and tug her closer to me, out of harm’s way.
The kid breezes past, nary a glance in our direction.
My nose softly brushes her temple as I shift my head to check if there are any other incoming mini-human missiles.
Nope. We’re clear.
I look down to check if she’s okay.
Yaya’s breathing shakily. Her eyes meet mine and soften for just a second before she pushes me away. Nervously, she flattens her hair.
I sign, “Are you okay?”
