“Are you coming to the zoo with us?” Isla asked, and I turned to look at Luke. Guess the cat was out of the bag.
“I guess I am. But only if that’s okay with you?”
“Do you like hippopotamuses?”
“I do like hippopotamuses,” I answered, ignoring Luke’s gaze and staying focused on his daughter.
She was a beautiful kid, and I could see why Luke’s world began and ended with her. She had chocolate hair that was badly braided down both sides of her head, little pieces coming loose everywhere. Her questioning brown eyes were fixed on me, and her skin was this beautifully unblemished light brown that left me envious.
“But do you know what I like even more than hippos?”
“What?”
“Giraffes! I love giraffes!”
“They’ve got really long tongues. And if you're there at the right time, you can help feed them,” Isla informed me.
“Really?” I asked, looking at Luke.
“Yep.”
“Well then, I hope we’re there at the right time because I really want to feed a giraffe,” I told her excitedly as Luke started the car, shooting me a wink.
“Me too.”
We drove in silence, me wringing my fingers in my lap and Luke glancing over at me nervously every chance he could.
We came to a stop at a red light and Luke reached over and took my hand, halting my fidgeting.
“Breathe,” he instructed calmly.
I wanted to roll my eyes at him but resisted. Instead, I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, counted to five, and let it go again. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, I did feel a bit better. Keeping my hand wrapped in his, the lights changed, and Luke got us moving again.
Hearing my name from the back seat shook me. I’d been so focused on the way Luke’s thumb was running back and forth across my skin and the warmth from his hand seeping through my jeans I’d forgotten we weren’t alone.
“Charlotte?”
Dropping Luke’s hand, I shifted in my seat until I could see Isla staring at me.
“Yes, Isla?” I asked.
“What do mermaids have for breakfast?”
Okay. A joke. I wasn’t expecting that. But then again, I hadn’t expected Luke to show up this morning with a six-year-old chaperone either.
Tapping my chin with my finger, I tried to think. I spent my days surrounded by kids Isla's age who told the worst jokes possible and trust me, I’d heard some doozies, but I’d never been asked what a mermaid has for breakfast.
“I don’t know. What does a mermaid have for breakfast?” I asked, ignoring Luke’s snicker beside me.
“Mermerlade toast,” Isla offered before dissolving in the cutest fit of giggles I’d ever heard. Hearing her laugh had me shaking my head and joining in.
“You think that’s bad? She has plenty more where they came from,” Luke warned as he turned into the parking lot out the front of Lincoln Park Zoo.
Four hours later, I was slumped on a park bench completely exhausted. We’d walked and walked, and Isla had talked and talked and talked. In fact, I don't think she shut up long enough to take a breath. We’d eaten ice creams, stuffed ourselves on burgers, and visited as many animals as we could. And somehow, Luke managed to convince Isla to leave the hippos long enough that we made it to the giraffe feeding.
It was an amazing day.
And surprising.
