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“Yes, because you’re a very nice little girl.”
“Thank you. Yousooonice. Thank you.” ” She squeezed the teddy against her chest.
Taking care of this adorable child melted the lump in his throat and eroded the bitterness his argument with Beverly had created. Convinced he’d made the right decision concerning his former fiancée, he exhaled deeply.
“What would you like to eat?” he asked Dalia once they’d reached the cafeteria.
“Pizza, orange juice, and an ice cream cone, please.”
“Okay, let’s get the pizza first.”
The assertive little doll knew what she wanted. He ordered a coffee for himself, placed their orders on a tray, and set it in front of her at the table.
He watched her unfold the napkin on her lap. “I need another to wipe my hands,” she stated primly.
“Okay.” He reached for the napkin holder, pulled out another one, handing it to her.
Tyler took a closer look at the well-mannered child. He’d noticed her almond complexion earlier, and now, without her hat and hood, he saw that she had dark, curly hair combed back into two pigtails. A genetic gift from her father perhaps?
Where was he? Sienna had specified she had no one to take care of her daughter.
“How old are you, Dalia?” He shouldn’t pry, but he was curious.
She raised three fingers.
“Do you go to a daycare?”
“I go to school with Mommy. I’m in pre-K and Mommy’s in fifth grade.”
“Is Mommy a teacher?”
“Of course. Mommy’s too big to be a student.” She giggled, tilting her head and opening her eyes wide as if doubting his intellect.
“Smart kid.” He couldn’t suppress a smile. “You like your pizza?”
“Very much. And you?” She knew how to carry on a conversation.
“It’s great.”
“When will Mommy be out ofthatroom?”
“In half an hour or so. We’ll go up when we’re done with dinner. What do you do after school?”
“I go home for dinner, and then I go to bed.”
“So, you stay at school late?”
“Yes. I have gym lessons, and Mommy does her work.”
So Sienna worked long hours, teaching, preparing material for classes and assignments, and she’d organized her daughter’s schedule to avoid the cost of babysitting.
“Done.” Dalia pushed her empty plate away. “Can I have my ice cream cone now, please?”
“Sure can. Come with me.”
He wouldn’t let her out of his sight. After they got ice cream, they returned to their table.
His phone vibrated. He pulled it out of his pocket, scowled as Beverly’s picture popped onto the screen, and he shoved the phone away. Several blips announced text messages. Exasperated by her persistence, he pulled out his phone once more and read.
