“Who’s that?”
Lucy opens her mouth, but I beat her to it.
“I’m Tucker.”
The little girl shifts the rabbit to her other hand and considers that.“When did you get here?”
“I slept outside,” I give her the truth.One thing I don’t believe in is lying to kids.
Quinn studies me.Then, very solemnly, “Mama says strangers aren’t supposed to sleep outside.If they’re homeless, they need to go to the shelter.”
A laugh punches out of me before I can stop it.
Lucy makes a mortified sound.“Quinn.”
There it is.The casual way a mother corrects a child over something not serious.Doesn’t matter what Lucy says, her daughter has decided to give me her full attention.She’s watching me like I’m a puzzle she hasn’t decided whether to trust.
“She’s right,” I add.“Usually they’re not.And I’ll let you in on a secret, Quinn.”Her eyes dance with amusement.“Moms are always right.So if you’re mama said it, she’s right.”
Quinn tilts her head.“Are you in trouble?”
“Not yet.”
That earns a tiny smile.
Lucy shakes her head and points toward the bathroom.“Go wash your face and brush your teeth.Then breakfast.”
Quinn nods and shuffles off without another word, though she glances back at me twice on the way down the hall.
Lucy exhales and rubs a hand over her forehead.“Sorry.”
“For what?”
“She says whatever she thinks.”She sighs, “no filter that one.
“Good trait.”
“Not always.”
I grin despite myself and take the seat at the kitchen table she pointed at earlier.
By the time the coffee’s done brewing, the house is awake.Quinn comes back dressed for school in leggings and a yellow shirt with a sunflower on it.Lucy moves around the kitchen packing lunches, toasting bread, scrambling eggs, all while brushing her own hair into a ponytail.
I’ve seen women do impossible things before.Single moms do them all before eight in the damn morning.
Quinn slides into the chair across from me and props her chin on both hands.“You’re big.”
Lucy closes her eyes briefly.“Quinn.”
“What?”the little girl asks.“He is.”
“So I’ve been told,” I share.I am six feet four inches tall, to most kids I’m a damn giant.
That gets me another grin.
“Do you have a motorcycle?You look like a motorcycle man on television.”
“Yeah, I have a Harley-Davidson.”
