“Okay…”
“Doesn’t seem to be trained.”
“How do you figure?”
Joanne chuckles. “It looked like the dog was taking her for a walk instead of the other way around.”
“Daddy?”
My daughter’s sweet voice pulls my attention to the hallway where she stands, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes while clutching her blanket.
“Good morning, sweetie.”
She walks toward me, slowly. “Are you mad today, Daddy?”
My eyes meet Joanne’s as she arches a brow at me, knowingly.
Crouching down to her level, I beckon my daughter toward me. “No, baby. Come here.” When she finally lands in my arms, I give her a squeeze, letting the guilt plaguing me melt away from her warmth. “I’m sorry Daddy has been grumpy lately.”
“You’ve been acting like Uncle Elliot.”
“I know. But you didn’t do anything wrong, okay? Daddy is just tired.”
“You’re always tired.” She leans back and studies my face. “Auntie Laney has cream you can use to make your face look better. You should get some from her.”
Joanne snorts and then heads toward the sink to deposit her mug while I mentally make a note to talk to my sister about what she discusses with my five-year-old.
“Thank you, but I’ll be okay. Are you excited for today?”
Ellis’s eyes light up when she remembers what today is. “It’s Career Day!”
“Right. Everyone will be there, just like you asked.”
“Even Uncle Fletcher?”
“Yup. And he’s bringing Carolina Thunder stickers for everyone.”
“Yay!” She bounces right out of my arms. “I can’t wait! I’m gonna get dressed!”
“What do you want for breakfast, Ellis?” Joanne asks before she runs to her room.
“Can I have pancakes with rainbow sprinkles today?” The look of desperation she gives me with pouty lips and batting eyelashes feels like a warning of what the teenage years will be like.
“Since it’s a special day, I think that’s all right,” I reply.
Joanne nods before pulling dishes from the cabinet.
When my daughter is out of earshot, I ask my nanny, “Does she give you that look every morning?”
“Nope. She knows better than to try that if you’re not around.”
“So, you’re telling me that my daughter knows I’m a pushover?”
Joanne smiles as she heads toward the pantry. “Yup and just wait until she gets older andreallywants something.”
“Great,” I mutter as I bring my mug to my lips again and move into the living room, intent on enjoying my coffee in front of the bay window while making a mental list of the tasks I need to get done in the front yard this week. My truck needs a wash, the grass is ready to be mowed, and I promised Ellis that we’d repaint the mailbox together.
As I glance out the front window, movement next door catches my eye. A woman with blonde hair in a red dress briskly walks to her car, tossing a few bags in the passenger seat. When she heads back toward the house, my eyes land on her face and my stomach drops.
