Ciela folded her arms across her chest and sat back in her chair. She didn’t look at him or her mother. “I don’t like waiting.”
Duval had to smother the smile he felt.
Noelle’s daughter was a force of nature.
He leaned in and gently bumped her arm with his. “Me, too. You can ask my mom.” He pointed across the table at his mother, knowing that his mother would easily step in to help.
She had thousands of stories to tell about him.
Normally, he huffed and rolled his eyes when she started in with those memories, but today?
Today, he needed that help.
True to form, his mother leaned into the table, her gaze fixed on Ciela’s shoulder trying. “Sweetheart, I could tell you chapter and verse on my boy.” She crooked a finger at the little girl beside him. “Why don’t you come over here and sit with me and I’ll tell you all about his world famous temper!”
Ciela turned to him with comically wide eyes. “You’re famous?”
There was a beat of silence and then everyone at the table burst into laughter.
Stunned for a moment, Ciela joined in, laughing.
With a look to her mother, she got a nod and Duval helped her down from the bench on the picnic table.
Ciela skirted around to the other side of the table and between his mother and Patricia, Ciela was quickly settled on Patricia’s lap.
“I remember when McCrae was about your age,” she lifted her hand and tapped Ciela on the tip of her nose, “he was determined to cut his hair like his father. I told him that he needed to wait until after his school pictures. After all,” she looked at him across the table, “we’d already had his hair cut and sadly, my son’s hair did NOT grow quickly.”
Ciela looked over at him. “I like your hair.”
He smiled at her. “Thanks.”
She nodded and turned back to look at his mother.
“Well, it was the style at the time to be a little longer.”
Noelle reached out a hand and touched his arm. “Don’t tell me. You had a mullet.”
He arched a brow back at her. “It was a style and remember, I wanted to cut it.”
His mother gave him a pointed look. “You wanted to change it again because the little girl down the block said you looked like a hippie.” She scoffed. “You didn’t even know what a hippie was, but you were suddenly bound and determined to cut it.”
“And you,” he nodded, “told me I had to wait until after school pictures.”
“There was a reason,” she shook her head. Then she looked down at Ciela. “A reason he wouldn’t listen to. So the morning of school photos,” she turned her head and nodded knowingly, “I woke him up to find that he’d somehow gotten hold of his father’s hair clippers.”
Beside him, he heard Noelle gasp.
Ciela didn’t seem to understand.
His mother was only too happy to fill her in.
“Later, I’ll show you a picture, dear, but suffice to say that McCrae had no idea how to use the clippers. He had chunks of his hair missing all over his head. The only thing we could do to fix it was to cut the rest of it off, leaving just ahintof hair at the front.”
Duval sagged in his chair, hanging his head. “I looked bald in my photos at school.”
He looked over at Noelle and saw her fighting to hold back a laugh.
“I’m sure it was… a look.”
