At the kitchen table behind me, Declan played a game on his tablet, but when I sneaked a glance over my shoulder, I caught him staring at me.What does a five-year-old know? Far too much in my opinion. He’s too intuitive for his age.
“I think my dad likes you.”
“Good. He’s my boss. Things are easier when boss and employee like each other.”
“You like him?”
“Sure,” I answered lightly. “He’s a nice guy.”
My face continued to burn as I recalled the hour when Avery busted me in my shirt and panties. How his gaze traveled up and down my nearly naked body, how the look in his eyes made me both embarrassed and exhilarated. I also remembered the shadowy thing, and my blush died away.
“Have you ever seen anything strange around here?” I asked, turning toward Declan.
“Like what?”
“I’m not sure, it’s hard to describe. A big shadow in the sky.”
“No.”
Interesting. He just lied to me.Declan returned his attention to his tablet, obviously hoping I wouldn’t ask anything else. I’d never been much of a body language reader, but Declan’s face and stiffness informed me he knewsomething.Nor was he willing, or was perhaps not allowed, to talk about it.
“Okay,” I said. “No biggie.”
I carried on with my kitchen cleaning, yet sensed a strange tension emanating from Declan. I found it not just odd, but suspected that if I demanded he tell me, I’d upset him. As I put the pots away and wiped the counter, I asked, “What do you want to do today? Go to the library? A park? If either are close by as I don’t have a car to drive us.”
Declan brightened instantly. “Can we go to the library? Please, please, Jacy? You can teach me to read.”
I laughed. “Okay, it’s a deal.”
With the warm weather outside, Declan wore small cargo pants that came to his shins. My shorts were once jeans, and exposed more of my legs than perhaps was wise. We held hands as we walked toward the downtown area where the library stood. A few cars honked as they passed by which I happily ignored.
I smiled at the young librarian at the desk, then took Declan to the children’s section. Mothers with their youngsters sat in the bean bag chairs, many eyeing me with what I thought was suspicion. After selecting a few books Declan showed an interest in, we took them to a table well away from everyone else.
“Okay, show me you know your letters,” I said as we sat side by side, an open book between us.
Declan half sang each letter he recognized, indicating each one with his finger. “But what’s this one?”
I looked. “It’s a Q. It looks like an O, but has the squiggly thing.”
He looked at me. “What’s a word with a Q?”
Pondering a simple word he’d instantly recognize, I pursed my lips. “‘Quick’,” I replied. “You know what that means? Fast.”
“But it sounds like a C word.”
“True, and good point. That’s what learning to read is all about. Learning that because a word sounds like a different letter doesn’t mean it’s always spelled that way.”
Declan frowned, then slowly recited a few words he knew. In this particular book, he found the word “quick”, and studied it for nearly a full five minutes. He moved on at last and asked me about several other words. I explained each and every one, and how to correctly pronounce them. Declan soaked up the education like a thirsty sponge, learning one word thoroughly before moving on.
I didn’t have much cash on me, but I took him to a local diner for lunch. He clutched the books we’d checked out to his small chest as though fearing a random stranger might yank them away. At the table, he placed them with near reverence on the seat beside him.
Over burgers and fries, I quizzed him on certain words he’d memorized. “How do you spell ‘puppy’?”
“P-U-P-P-Y.”
“Yay,” I cried, my fists lifted. “That’s great. High five.”
Grinning, Declan slapped my palm with his. “I remembered.”
