AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I don’t expect a real answer, so I’m surprised when she offers one. “I kind of like team sports,” she says to the window. “Like basketball and soccer. When we play them at school, I think that’s fun. Most of the time, I play with the boys.”
I try to remember what the front of her house looks like. “Do you guys have a basketball hoop somewhere that I didn’t see?”
She shakes her head. “No. But there’s one down the street at the playground.”
I stop at a red light. “Well, how am I going to play with it down there?”
In the rearview mirror, she makes eye contact with me, and I cross my eyes at her. Her eyes crinkle, and I’m sure I catch a small grin. I’m coming to live for this little girl’s smiles. “Lots of people get them in their driveway,” I say. “Maybe we could too.”
“Do you think so?” The smile she gives me might be her first genuine, wide-open one, and it makes happiness sing through me.
“I know so.”
“Okay.” She sounds uncertain, but she doesn’t say more. We pull into the driveway, and I have a moment of victory. My clunker made it.Take that, Duke.I shift into park and turn off the car. “But don’t tell Daddy.”
“About the hoop?”
“No. That I don’t like dance.”
I turn in my seat and cock my head. “Why not?”
“He’s busy.”
“I’m sure your father wants to know what’s going on.”
She waves me off. “Yeah. But I need to watch out for him.” She struggles with the door handle for a moment before she gets out, blissfully unaware that she left me speechless.
What kid thinks about their parent like that? Then again, by her age, I was practically raising myself. I never knew my father, and my mother and I moved from one short-term rental or hotel to another. I was too busy thinking about survival to worry about anything else. When my mom stopped coming home for the night when I was ten, I even went to school for a few days with no one realizing I had no supervision. Until I got too hungry…
I shake my head. Duke asked me to give her space, worrying she wasn’t tough enough to handle this change, and now she’s protecting him in her seven-year-old way. It’s obvious the two of them care about each other, but they both need to be honest with each other. Tiptoeing around what’s important won’t help them.
I watch as she heads through the side door, punching in the code. Chewing on my lower lip, I consider my options. Duke told me to charge whatever I needed. I pull up a shopping app and find the nicest basketball hoop I can, one I can change the height of the basket easily. I scan in his card and hit ‘Buy Now.’
Quickly, I drop Duke a text.Bought Tabby a basketball hoop. Receipt in your email. You said anything she needed.
Hurrying out of the car, I catch up with Tabby at the door. “Hey,” I call after her. “Do you want to help me make dinner?”
Her brow creases, but there’s interest there, too. “I guess?”
“Perfect. Do you like chicken?”
Duke
It’srightbeforeTabby’sbedtime when I get home from camp. A really long day. There’s a note on the counter.Dinner in the refrigerator. June’s script is swirly, slanting in a bunch of directions. She put a smiley face at the end. She still gave me a smile, even though I’ve been almost surly toward her. I grin in grudging admiration. I wonder if there’s anything that phases this woman.
As I put the note back down and open the refrigerator, I admit how much I admire her spirit. Nothing seems to get her down. Or at least nothing seems to keep her that way. Hell, if she could put up with me the last few days, she can do about anything.
I lift the foil on top of the plate. It smells delicious. A peek at it shows chicken, sweet potatoes, and green beans. My mouth waters. I remove the foil, cover it with a paper towel, and put it in the microwave. As my dinner warms, I go in search of my chef nanny and my daughter. I find Tabby curled in the love seat in the playroom, a book in her hand.
“What are you doing?” I ask her, sliding into the love seat next to her. My quads are killing me. Keeping up with the young guys gets harder every year.
“Reading.” She holds up her book, and there’s a cartoon on the front. “June bought it for me.”
“Did she?” I study the illustration on the front. “Is that a unicorn?”
“Da-ad,” she drags the word out. “It’s a narwhal.” She snags her book back and points at the front. “And a jellyfish. Clearly.” Opening the book, she finds her page and gets comfortable again.
“Clearly.” Until now, we’ve read books together, and they’re usually classics.Frog and Toad, the Narnia books,Winnie the Pooh. This is the first time she’s tucked in like this with a book of her choosing. “Do you like it?”
