by Keeland, Vi
“I get where it got its name now,” he said.
I smiled. “Birdie, do you mind if we take a few extra minutes to do this? I’m going to unbraid you and let your dad take a shot.”
She laughed. “He braids worse than he makes pancakes. But okay.”
I reversed the weaving I’d done and ran my fingers through her hair while talking to Sebastian. “Birdie told me you own a restaurant. How do you not make great pancakes?”
His face grew solemn. “My wife was a chef. I ran the business end of the restaurant.”
I frowned. “Oh. I’m sorry.”
He nodded.
“Alright, well, let me scoot over, and you give it a try now.” I made room for Sebastian to sit behind his daughter and then leaned close to watch and give him step-by-step directions. “Separate the pony into two, and take a small section and flip it before you add it to the inside, like I showed you.”
Sebastian took Birdie’s hair and separated it, but that was as far as he got. He held on to the pieces of her hair and chuckled. “I have no clue what the hell you just did.”
Smiling, I reached over and covered his hand with mine so that I could guide his movements and he could get the feel of the motion of weaving the braid. The gesture was innocent enough, but my hands hugging his felt absolutely electrifying. It rattled me so much that I forgot how the hell to make the damn braid myself. “Umm. You put this one over here . . . No wait . . . that’s not right . . . this goes over there.” Honestly, I needed to let go of him if I had any chance of Birdie walking out the door without looking like a rat had nested on top of her head.
Sebastian tried in earnest to continue without me, but he was just lost.
Eventually, he sighed. “Why don’t you just do it, or we might be here all day.”
“Yeah, maybe that’s best.”
As I went to move back to sit behind Birdie, Sebastian and I stood so we could switch places again. We both attempted to pass each other on the same side and wound up banging into each other.
“Sorry,” he said.
“My fault.” I smiled.
I moved to my left, and Sebastian moved to his right, which meant we did the same thing again. This time, his eyes flickered to my lips before we managed to figure out how to step around each other.
Was I imagining that just happened? I didn’t think so.
He cleared his throat after I sat back down behind Birdie. “I’m going to . . . give Marmaduke some water before we head out.”
If what I’d thought just happened had really happened, Birdie seemed oblivious. “See, I told you,” she said. “Worse than pancakes.”
With Sebastian out of the room, I was able to do Birdie’s braid in just a few minutes. She ran to a mirror when I finished. “It’s so pretty. Maybe you can teach me how to do my own. I don’t think Dad’s going to be very good at it.”
“Sure. That might be a better idea.”
Sebastian returned from the kitchen. “Something came up at the restaurant, and I need to make a few calls. Why don’t you two take Marmaduke for his walk, and I’ll join you for the training session when you get back.”
“Okay, Daddy!”
I had no idea why, but I got the distinct feeling that something hadn’t really popped up at work for Sebastian. Though the man had let me back into his life, so I wasn’t going to do anything stupid. I smoothed the wrinkles from my pants. “We’ll be back in about twenty minutes.”
Outside, I took Marmaduke’s leash, and Birdie walked alongside me.
“I didn’t think you were coming back,” she said.
“I’m sorry about that. Something . . . unexpected came up. I didn’t mean to disappoint you when I had to stop coming.”
She shrugged. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re back.”
“So what’s new? How has Marmaduke been the last few weeks?”
Birdie giggled. “He ate the blanket off Dad’s bed, and there were feathers all over the place. Like, a million of them.”
“Oh boy. How did he handle that?”
“He was angry. That night, I heard him telling the lady that he wanted to bring Marmaduke to a farm somewhere.”
“The lady?”
“My dad talks to this lady sometimes at night. He does it from his room because he thinks I don’t hear him.”
We got to the corner, and I put my hand out to make sure Birdie didn’t keep walking at the red light. While we waited for the crosswalk sign to change, I dug a little deeper.
“Is the lady a friend of his?”
“He got her from the internet.”
I had to stifle a laugh. “From the internet? What do you mean?”
Birdie frowned. “I think he’s looking for my new mom. This girl Suzie at school said her dad bought his new wife from Russia.”
My eyes widened. “He what?”
“She said that her mom said that her dad got his bride through the mail.” She shrugged. “From Russia.”
“Honey, I think maybe Suzie’s mom is saying that facetiously.”
“Fay-sheesh-ly?”
I smiled. “Facetiously. It means sort of saying it as a joke to be funny.”
“Oh. So her dad didn’t buy a wife from Russia, then? I guess that makes sense. Because if he was going to buy one, he’d probably get one his own age, right? Suzie’s stepmom is really young.”
Or . . . maybe Suzie’s dad did buy his bride. Either way, this conversation had taken an odd turn. “What made you think your dad was looking for a new wife?”
“A few weeks ago, I was listening by his door at night, and I heard him tell her he wanted to be up-front with what he was looking for—that he’s not looking to date.”
Uh-oh. “Did he say what he was looking for?”
“No. But what else would he want if he didn’t want to date the lady?”
I wasn’t touching this one with a ten-foot pole. Perhaps it was time for a change of subject. I knew from her letters that Suzie was a girl in school who had been mean to her. So I thought maybe it might be an opportunity to see how things were going in that department.
“Is . . . Suzie a good friend of yours?”
Birdie’s little face scrunched up like she smelled a rotting fish. “No way. She’s the worst.”
“Why is she the worst?”
“She makes fun of everyone. About what they wear, their hair, even the books people pick out in the library during quiet time.”
The light changed, and the three of us crossed the street. “Do you know why Suzie is mean to people?”
“Because her soul is black?”
I laughed. “Where on earth did you learn about black souls?”
“In religion class. Well, they didn’t teach us about black ones. But they said good people have pure souls. And white is kinda pure. So I figured hers must be black.”
Well, her logic was pretty damn good. But I wanted to steer the conversation back to the real reason some kids were bullies.
“Actually, usually kids who are mean don’t really like themselves. They put other people down in an attempt to make them feel better about themselves.”
Birdie guffawed at that notion. “Suzie likes herself a lot. She thinks she’s the best at everything.”
“That’s what Suzie wants you to believe. But I bet you deep down, she’s really struggling.”
“I don’t know . . .”
Clearly Birdie wasn’t sold. “Let me see if I can guess a few things about Suzie.”
“Okay . . .”
“Is she overly concerned with what she looks like? Like, is her hair always done just right, and she wears nice outfits every single day instead of just throwing on a pair of sweats and a wrinkly T-shirt sometimes, like the rest of us do?”
“Yeah. She’s always perfect.”
“And does she belong to a clique of girls, and they all sort of travel as a pack—all together?”
“Yeah.”
“Does she start rumors about people at school?�
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Birdie’s head whipped to me. “How did you know that? Last week she told everyone that Amelia Aster still wears pull-up pants to sleep because she pees her pants. But she doesn’t. I’m good friends with Amelia, and we’ve had sleepovers.”
“You see . . . I knew all that because those are all the classic signs of the mean girls who don’t like themselves very much.”
“Did you have mean girls in school?”
“I sure did. And you know what I found out worked best to make them stop picking on me?”
“What?”
“Smiling.”
Birdie looked confused. “Smiling?”
“Yup. Whenever a bully said anything mean to me, I would just smile back at her. After a while, when my bully stopped getting a reaction from me, she left me alone.”
A stray cat ran out from nowhere in front of us. Unfortunately, Marmaduke saw it before I did, so I wasn’t prepared when he took off running. My hand had been looped through the leash, and he tugged me along for the ride.
“Marmaduke! No! Stop!”
He didn’t listen. I ran past six or seven houses screaming like a lunatic and trying to keep up. The damn dog was pretty fast.
Birdie caught up to me and yelled, “Nein!”
Marmaduke instantly halted.
My hand covered my racing heart. “Oh my God. Thank you. I can’t believe he listened to you.”
“I’ve been working with him every day.”
“Wow. Well, that’s great. Obviously you’ve done really well with him.”
Birdie beamed. “Thank you.”
The rest of our walk was uneventful, and we returned to the Maxwell house after about twenty minutes.
“How was your walk?” Sebastian asked his daughter.
“Good. Marmaduke tried to chase a cat.”
Sebastian looked over at me and frowned. “How’d that go?”
“Well, to be honest, it wasn’t going too well. He caught me off guard, and I couldn’t get him to back down. But Birdie here got him to stop.”
She shrugged. “It was no big deal. Sadie was the one who taught him the word. I just yelled it.”
Sebastian smiled warmly at me. It made my stomach do a little flip.
God, I’m wound tight today. I unclipped the leash from Marmaduke’s collar, and he took a few steps before sprawling out on the area rug. It looked like he might go down for a nap. “I think the pup is sufficiently tuckered out now. So I guess we should get started? I was thinking that today we could work on ‘stay’ and ‘down.’” Lord knows I’d watched about a hundred hours of different videos to learn training techniques for just those two commands.
Sebastian stayed in the room, but he took a seat off to the side and left the training to Birdie and me. Every once in a while, I’d look over and see him watching us. After more than an hour of training, he looked at his watch and stood.
“I think you went over on your session time.”
“It’s okay. They did great today, don’t you think?”
Sebastian walked over. “They sure did.” He crouched down to his daughter. “I think all your hard work deserves some ice cream. What do you say we hit Emack & Bolio’s before I have to go to work?”
Birdie flashed a toothy smile. “Yes!”
“Alright. Why don’t you go get washed up . . . and use soap, okay?”
“Okay, Daddy!” Birdie looked at me. “Sadie, do you want to come? They make this purple ice cream, and it looks so pretty with Cap’n Crunch on top.”
“Umm. That sounds delicious. But I should probably be going.”
She frowned. “Okay. But you’re going to come again, right?”
I smiled. “Yes, definitely.”
“When?”
“Why don’t I work that out with your dad while you get washed up.”
Birdie threw her arms around my waist in a hug. “Thank you for coming back.”
This little girl truly made my heart melt. I bent down and gave her braid a tug. “Thank you for all the practice you did while I couldn’t be here the last few weeks. I’m really proud of you.”
After she skipped off to the bathroom, Sebastian had a funny look on his face.
“What?” I wiped at my cheek. “Do I have dirt on me again from Marmaduke?”
“No. I just . . . She really has a strong connection with you. Honestly, she hasn’t bonded with any woman since her mom died.”
“Are there . . . other women in her life?”
“She has an aunt who lives in Jersey. She comes to visit every few weeks and always brings her a thoughtful gift. But . . . I don’t know . . . whatever you have together is just different.”
I smiled. “I feel connected to her, too. I hope that’s okay?”
Sebastian put his hands in his pockets and looked down. “Yeah, it’s great, actually. I guess I didn’t realize how much she missed a woman in her life until recently.”
A woman in her life . . . That reminded me. I nodded toward the front door. “Do you think we can speak outside for a minute or two?”
His brows drew together, but he said, “Yeah, of course.”
Once we were out front with the door closed, I wasn’t quite sure how to say what I wanted to say.
Sebastian looked troubled as he waited for me to formulate my thoughts. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. Everything is fine. It’s just . . . Birdie said something to me that I thought I should make you aware of.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, apparently she knows you talk to a woman online at night.”
Sebastian’s face fell. “Shit. What exactly did she say?”
“She thinks you’re trying to buy a bride . . . a new mom for her.”
“What?” His eyes widened. “Why the heck would she think that?”
“Sometimes at night she eavesdrops on your conversations from outside your bedroom door. She overheard you tell a woman that you didn’t want to date her. So she assumed that meant you were looking for a wife and not a date.”
Sebastian’s eyes shut, and he shook his head. “I meant that I was looking for . . .” He opened his eyes, and our gazes met. “I occasionally will meet a woman online. I try to be up-front about . . . Well, when I said I didn’t want to date, I meant I didn’t want an emotional relationship.” He frowned. “I don’t want more than the physical part. If you know what I mean.”
“Sure. Of course. I sort of figured that’s what you’d meant. But I didn’t explain it to Birdie because obviously it wasn’t my place to tell her that her father was just cruising for a hookup.”
Sebastian dragged a hand through his hair. “There haven’t been too many. I don’t want you to think . . .”
I put my hands up. “No explanation needed. We’re adults. With needs. Trust me, I get it.” I laughed nervously. “Or maybe I understand since I don’t get it enough.”
Sebastian cracked a smile. “Dry spell?”
“The profiles of the people who like my online dating profile look like a sex-offender registry.”
We both laughed.
“Yeah, it’s not easy,” he said. Sebastian’s eyes dropped to do a quick sweep over my body and then rose to meet mine again. Finding that I’d just watched him check me out, he cleared his throat. “So . . . when can you come again?”
Interesting choice of words.
“How about the same time next week?”
“That’d be great. And thanks for letting me know about Birdie’s snooping. I really appreciate it.”
“Of course. See you next week.”
I walked down the front stairs and toward the corner. With every step, I had the strongest urge to look back and see if Sebastian was watching me. When I reached the end of the block, before I turned, I gave in and looked back. Sebastian hadn’t moved from the spot I’d left him.
I sighed to myself. Yeah. It’s not easy out there. But I wouldn’t mind climbing that man like a tree.
CHAPTER 13
S
EBASTIAN
“She’s pretty, isn’t she?”
“Hmm?” I pretended not to hear the question that Magdalene had just hit me with. We were alone in the kitchen right after Sadie and Birdie had left to head to the park with Marmaduke.
Sadie didn’t really have a set day here. She basically agreed to come whenever her schedule allowed. Today happened to be a Sunday and was Sadie’s second visit since her return. We hadn’t discussed an actual end date, but she didn’t seem anxious to stop the visits. As long as Birdie was happy, I wasn’t going to be the one to initiate ending the arrangement.
“Sadie. She’s very pretty,” she repeated.
As if I hadn’t heard her the first time.
I took one last sip of coffee and said, “I’m actually late for a meeting with an imported-olive-oil vendor at the restaurant, so . . .”
“You’re trying to avoid the topic. I understand.”
I froze just as I was exiting the kitchen, then turned. “What do you expect me to say? Of course she’s a beautiful girl.”
She wiped the counters. “And sweet . . . and seems like a good person.”
“What are you getting at, Magdalene?”
“Nothing . . . I just noticed you . . . looking at her, and—”
“Goodbye, Magdalene.” I smiled so she didn’t think I was mad. But I needed to completely dismiss this topic of conversation.
The fact that she’d noticed me checking Sadie out was not good. I’d actually been making a concerted effort not to do that. But it wasn’t easy. It was hard not to look at her, to admire her natural beauty whenever we were in the same room. Sadie was attractive in a clean and effortless way. She didn’t need a drop of makeup. And let’s not get started on her body. It was perfect. So I noticed. Sue me, Magdalene.
After I’d gone to my office to grab my keys and wallet, I was just about to head out the front door when she stopped me one more time.
“Mr. Maxwell . . .”
I turned. “Yes?”
She looked down at her feet. “It’s just . . . it’s been four years, and I wonder if—”
“I understand that your intentions are good. But I’m not interested in a relationship or a . . . replacement. No one will ever replace Amanda. Is that what you’re hinting at?”