Page 50 of Clean Slade
“Am so,” she insisted.
“You can’t even tie your shoelaces, sweetie. You’re not too old.”
Mac gasped.
“You said lots of people can’t do that.”
I bit my lip before I put my foot in my mouth any further.
My little girl was growing up faster than I cared to admit. Soon she’d be a woman, and we’d have to deal with a whole other clusterfuck of things.
If only I could keep her tiny and young forever. She’d be an adult before I knew it, and my ability to protect her would be even weaker.
“Come,” I said, inviting her back to me and hugging her when she came. “Can I tell you a secret?”
She nodded with a raised eyebrow. I glanced at Slade and leaned into her ear.
“It’s all for Slade.”
“What do you mean?” she whispered back.
“He feels lonely because he doesn’t have anyone in Mayberry, so I had to pretend you needed a nanny so he doesn’t feel bad. Really, you’ll be keeping him company.”
She inspected my face with pursed lips, probably trying to determine how truthful I was being before she snorted and huffed an unconvincing, “Fine.”
Slade watched us with narrowed eyes and crossed arms, and when Mac jumped back to her feet, he asked her what she wanted to do this afternoon.
“What do you have in mind?” Mac said.
He pinched his chin and hummed for a moment.
“How about I take you and your dad for ice cream?”
“Only if there’s pancakes under it,” she replied, and both Slade and I laughed.
“Sassy! Go on. Get dressed.”
As Mac got busy getting ready, Slade took his phone out and started typing furiously.
“What?” I asked him.
He didn’t take his eyes off his screen.
“Nothing.”
Had something happened? Had his teammates found something? Should I be worried?
“What’s going on, Slade? Is it something bad?” I tried to go through a million things in my head of what could have gone wrong when he finally looked up and laughed.
“No. I’m trying to find where in this town we can get ice cream and pancakes.”
I couldn’t even describe the weight that lifted from my shoulders when he said that, but I guessed it probably showed in the way I laughed hysterically.
“You think Google Maps is going to tell you that? You’ve never lived on a small island, have you?”
“Fudge off,” was his response.
“Hey. Don’t talk to me like that, or you’re fired.” I wagged my finger at him.
