She groaned.
He sighed, looking downtrodden. For a man of thirty-nine years, Doug looked much younger. He smiled and laughed a lot, living in the moment, something she’d been doing her best to emulate. So, for Doug to sigh like that…
Doug looked her right in the eye. “Just another day in the life of Emily Swanson. We went to the library. And Emily asked…questions.”
Maggie cringed. “How bad was it?”
Doug started laughing.
Maggie’s daughter was six going on thirty. A precocious little genius with lofty dreams of becoming the first-ever bear-princess-assassin. The idea being to gouge out the patient’s heart with her bear claws, eat only a tiny bit of it as bear-payment, then kill her victims to save the bear kingdom from evil poachers.
And no, Maggie would never again allow her ex to read her daughter Grimm’s fairy tales while binging on Animal Planet. Stephen knew better.
Doug caught his breath, finally. “I think she scared the firefighter giving the lecture. The guy was built like a tank and had to be over six feet tall. But he had the look of fear when your daughter asked him question after question. He did pretty well, overall. Then, of course, at the end, Emily told him he was pretty and mentioned I was once hospitalized because I pooped too much.” Doug dragged a hand over his face. “It was really embarrassing. Not just because of the poop mention, but because both firemen there for the talk were drool-worthy.”
Maggie grinned.
“I’m not kidding. We should take Emily on a tour of Station 44 when C shift is on duty.”
Maggie laughed. “I’m telling Benny you said that.”
“Please. Who do you think will be driving us to the station?”
“Good point.” Maggie loved Doug and Benny. Her family, if not by blood, the married couple had been supportive and loving from the very first day Maggie had met Doug at school. He had been more than welcoming. Thanks to him, she’d found the apartment next door when she and Stephen had divorced.
“Have I ever told you how much I love you and Benny?”
“Not since yesterday. But go ahead and tell me again. I earned it.”
Maggie reached up for a hug, and he leaned down to give her one. “Wow,” she exclaimed. “My hands are almost overlapping behind you! You’ve been losing weight!”
He pulled back with a huge smile. “I love you even more now. Make sure to say that again in front of Benny. We’re having a competition. Winner gets an all-expense-paid dinner at Canliss.”
“Isn’t that contrary to losing all that weight? Rewarding yourself with food sends the wrong message, doesn’t it?”
Doug glared. “Until you’ve had their caramelized mussels and dry-aged rib-eye, don’t judge.”
“And don’t you guys have a joint bank account? What’s the point of who pays?”
“Your daughter told centerfold hunks I pooped so much, I had to be hospitalized. Let me have this contest.”
She bit back laughter. “Oh, er, right. I hope you win.” She looked him over. “But you’re one to talk, calling someone else a ‘centerfold hunk.’” Doug had dark hair he kept constantly black thanks to a salon, a trim figure even whennotdieting, and features she would have called pretty on a woman and oddly stunning on a man.
In contrast, Benny had height and mass, most of it muscle, though the slow-building tire around his middle attested to his love of good food. He had brutish features, full sleeves of tattoos over bronze skin, and wore his shaggy hair back in a ponytail. A retired semiprofessional wrestler who now taught piano and dabbled in painting, Benny loved nothing more than to gossip about the apartment complex and lament Maggie’s lack of a love life.
The pair complemented each other, and Maggie had found in them real family.
“So how did you end up taking Emily to the library? I thought Benny volunteered.”
Maggie had a summer job to make ends meet and often relied upon Emily’s “uncles” to help with childcare.
“He was supposed to, but they needed his help at the community center since their piano player called in sick. And honestly, he’s been dying to play something that doesn’t involve scales.”
“Oh. I’m happy he got to play today. And I’m sorry about your, ah, pooping problem.”
Doug grimaced. “Oh, stop. It was one time when I had the flu, two years ago. I was dehydrated, is all. How the hell does she remember something from that long ago?”
Maggie had long ago stopped wondering how her daughter did half the things she did. “It’s Emily.”
