Page 112 of Papa's Bébé
“I’m not changing the topic! You just look like you could use a good night’s sleep. It can’t have been much fun sleeping on the sofa.”
“It wasn’t,” he replied. “That sofa is lumpy and short. But you’re still avoiding the conversation. You disobeyed me. Now, sit down.”
Huh?
Why did he want her to sit down?
“Sit. Down. Now, Maya. Or you’re going to be sitting very uncomfortably tomorrow.”
He turned and left the room, heading into the third bedroom. Which was now his, she guessed.
Her mind was whirling. Had he just . . . had he . . . threatened to spank her?
That couldn’t be right. She must have misunderstood what he said.
Right. So what other reason would he say you’d have trouble sitting tomorrow?
She wasn’t sure but as he returned, she found herself quickly sitting.
Urgh.
Why had she done that? Idiot.
He didn’t look at her as he returned and for some reason that made her stomach tighten in nerves and something else . . . guilt?
But what did she have to feel guilty about?
Maybe because you disobeyed him? And you know that you’re supposed to do what he tells you to do when it comes to safety.
Matthieu crouched in front of her and picked up one foot. What was he doing?
Then she noticed that he was holding some socks.
Socks that had metal garbage cans on them with a green head poking out.
“Are those Oscar the Grouch socks?” she asked.
“Yep.” He brushed off one foot and looked it over. “No scratches. That’s good. You should know better than to walk around outside without shoes. You could have stepped on glass or a thistle.”
A thistle?
Was that really what he was worried about? A thistle?
He slid a sock onto her foot, then gave the other one the same treatment.
“Do you like Oscar the Grouch?” she asked.
“No,” he said abruptly as he rubbed her feet. Oh, that felt so nice. She hadn’t realized how cold her feet had been. Now that they were getting warmer, they were starting to hurt.
“Then why do you have socks with him on them?” she asked, curiously.
“It’s a joke,” he said. “A practical joke. From two pranksters.”
“Um. Okay.”
He sighed. “Ink has these stepsons. I once had to rescue them and they knocked me out and stole my car. Which they wrote off.”
“Oh no.”
