I blew a steady stream of air through my lips and shook my head. “I don’t know if that’s possible”—I stuffed my hands in my pockets—“but I’ll do my best.”
She looked exasperated, so I thought I’d cut her some slack.
“All right, hit me with the rest,” I said. “What are the other rules?”
Selene’s chin dipped as each rule was checked off her mental to-do list. “We don’t do any screen time before school, or until at least after dinner. I would prefer never, but I’m not a total monster. Processed sugar is dicey. If you give it to her, you may have a maniac on your hands. So if you want to preserve any of your sanity, save anything like that for an after-school treat. She needs closed-toe shoes for school. And no matter what she says, under no circumstances, are we adopting a pet. I don’t care what she says or how cute she looks when she asks.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at the last one. “No adoptees.” I chuckled. “Got it. I think I can handle that. Anything else, boss?”
Selene groaned. “God, why are you being so nice?”
I leaned against her kitchen counter. “Why are you so surprised that people don’t mind helping you?”
Selene eyed me suspiciously, but it was clear she was more than a little tired and grateful for me to lend a hand.
With her finger in the air, Selene stepped forward, eyes narrowed. “Just because you’re charming doesn’t mean I trust you.”
God, she was cute when she was trying to be tough.
I dipped my chin. “That’s fair, but I’m sure I’ll win you over with sheer tenacity and my superior granola bar management skills.”
A half laugh rattled in the back of Selene’s throat, and I was rewarded with a sly smile at the corner of her mouth.
Selene eased past me with graceful movements. “We’ll be down in a few minutes.” She tipped her head toward the coffeepot in the corner. “The coffee is hot. Sugar’s in the jar next to it, and cream is in the fridge.”
I nodded without responding, and as she slinked upstairs, I took in the space around me.
It was uncanny how you could clearly see a beautiful home had been divided and made into this monstrosity of a rental property. Modern walls had been shoehorned into a once-historic building. You could see it in the way the original crown molding disappeared on her side but continued on mine.
Out in the joint backyard a smattering of rain made music on the back steps. Listening for any signs of trouble upstairs, but not hearing any, I hurried over to my apartment side to grab an umbrella.
When I stepped back into their side, Winnie was just coming down the stairs. Her little grin with one front tooth missing was too damn cute.
“Almost ready, kid?” I asked.
Winnie was dressed in a pair of knee-length denim shorts and a red-and-blue-striped shirt.
“Almost,” she chirped. “I want a French braid and a big bow.” She turned back up the stairs. “Mama!”
I stepped forward. “Oh, whoa, hey—maybe there’s something I can help with.” I shrugged.
Winnie eyed me skeptically, her hands propped on her little hips. “You know how to French braid?”
“Absolutely not.” I shook my head with a chuckle. I spun my finger in a circle. “Give me a quick twirl.”
Happy to be the center of attention, Winnie obliged, twirling in a big circle and ending on a curtsy.
“How would you feel about a mediocre ponytail with that big bow? That I think I can handle.”
Her lips pursed, but almost immediately she shrugged. “Sure, why not,” she relented, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
I opened my arms. “Well, step on up to Austin’s beauty parlor.”
Winnie chuckled and turned so I could gather her wild hair into a ponytail. Her brown strands were past her shoulders, half of it curly and the other half poking out in different directions. I did my best to gather it behind her, smoothing the front and sides without tugging too hard on her scalp.
“High or low?” I asked.
Winnie shot a skeptical look over her shoulder. “High,” she decided. “And how do you know how to do a ponytail?”
