Page 85 of A Little Naughty

Jemima blinks up to join the conversation. “Oh, Nikki, that was when I made Hamburger Helper. What Raif made is a lot better?—”

“He’s not better than you!” Her voice rises. “That’s not how we do it.”

Jemima exhales a nervous laugh, glancing from her to me. “We don’t have a way of doing it…”

“Yes, we do!” Nikki stands out of her seat, frowning harder.

“What’s our way, honey?” Jemima tilts her head, and the worry in her eyes makes my chest tighten uncomfortably.

“You make the meat in the pot, then you dump the box in!”

“But, sweetie?—”

“And you sing to me at night, and you scratch my back!” Nikki runs up the stairs, and Jemima’s foot slips off her chair.

She watches her go, then looks at me. “What just happened?”

Passing a hand over my mouth, I stand slowly. “Let me talk to her.”

When I reach the top of the narrow staircase, I hear muffled crying from her room. A pang of guilt is in my stomach, and I try to think what I would’ve done at her age if I’d been living with my mom and somebody like me suddenly joined the party.

I was only a little older than she is now when I lost my mom, and the only thing I wanted was everything to go back to the way it was before.

Reaching out I tap lightly on the door. “Nikki?”

She sits up fast, wiping her face on her sleeve. “Yeah?”

“Hang on.” I step across the hall into the small bathroom to grab a washcloth, holding it under the cold water and giving it a squeeze.

I walk over to sit beside her on the bed and hand it to her. “I’m sorry if I made you cry.”

“She said nothing was going to change.” A pout is in her voice, and I press my lips together. “Now everything is changing, and she loves you more than she loves me.”

Those words hit me right in the gut. I imagine Jemima loving me, and I confess, it makes me feel a little winded and a lot good.

Clearing my throat, I know Nikki is important to her. I know if I have a snowball’s chance in hell, this is one problem I’ve got to handle correctly.

“I don’t think Jemima loves anyone more than you.” I put my hand on her little shoulder. “I wouldn’t be here if she didn’t love you.”

Her nose wrinkles, and she looks up at me. “What does that mean?”

Then I realize she’s clueless about why we really got married, so I redirect. “She knows how much you love Porkchop, and I guess she thought I’d be useful to have around to cook for you all and keep you safe.”

“And sleep in her bed.”

Nodding, I can’t argue with that. “She was wrong to say nothing would change, but we’re trying to make themgoodchanges.”

Her small mouth presses into a line, and she holds the washcloth against her cheek. “Porkchop’s a good change.”

“He’s your friend.” I clear my throat. “I’d like to be your friend, too, if you’ll let me.”

Her brown eyes slide to mine, and I can’t remember a time when I was vulnerable, when I wasn’t fighting everybody. Now I’m in this house with this kid and this woman who’s turning my world around.

“You want to be my dad?” The skepticism in her voice breaks the tension building in my chest.

I exhale a laugh, shaking my head. “No, I can be more like an uncle or maybe a cousin you like hanging out with. Is that better?”

“Hey…” Jemima’s soft voice warms the room, and I look up at her thinking about words likeloveandfamily.

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