Page 19 of Broken SEAL'S Secret Baby
“I love it!” she says. “I plan to do my graduate thesis on the benefits of plants and pets for children.”
I’m surprised. “You are in graduate school?”
She wrinkles her nose. It is the most adorable expression I’d ever seen on a grown woman, let alone on James’ bratty sister. “Not yet. I’m just thinking ahead. It’s taken me a little while to get this close to completing my undergraduate studies. I took some time out to work and save money instead of getting student loans. And I’ve worked part-time while going to school.”
I mentally revise my estimation of her age. I can always look at her contract to find out for sure.
“Daddy? Miss Kate? What are you doing out here in the garden?” I turn around to see Cece standing in the doorway.
“I’m showing Miss Bailey around before I start work,” I say. “Would you like to help me?”
“Sure,” Cece replies. “But I’d like some breakfast. Where’s Manuela?”
“Manuela called. Someone in her building is sick, so she can’t come to work today,” I explain.
Cece’s face clouds over with worry. “Is Manuela going to get sick and go to heaven like Mommy?”
I don’t know what to say. Sometimes Cece is way too smart for her own good.
Miss Bailey comes to the rescue. “Manuela isn’t sick. One of her neighbors is, and all the people in her building have to stay home just in case someone else gets sick. That way, the doctors can be sure they won’t make anyone else sick.”
“Oh.” Cece thinks that over for a minute. “Can I call and talk to her?”
“I bet you can,” Miss Bailey says. “Your daddy probably has her number. I bet Manuela is bored and lonesome, and would like to hear from you.”
Right then, I wish I could return the hug and kiss. It is the perfect thing to say to Cece. My baby girl lights up like a hundred-watt LED bulb. “Can we call her right after breakfast?”
Miss Bailey laughs. “Ask your daddy.”
“Of course we can,” I say. “We’ll get you started on breakfast. I can finish showing Miss Bailey around . . .”
“Who’s Miss Bailey?” Cece asks.
“That’s me,” Kate says. “But you can call me Miss Kate, just like you do at school.”
“Ok,” Cece says. “I’m really hungry. Can I have cereal? And grapefruit juice?”
While Miss Bailey helps Cece with her breakfast, I nip into the office and set up an amended contract for my new household manager. I also go down to my bedroom and change into jeans — a less revealing cover for my unruly member.
By the time I return to the kitchen, Cece is finished eating, and it looks as if Kate has polished off her two cold waffles and her coffee.
She has also found the cat food, and the resident nihilist who had stunk up my favorite pair of slacks is face down in a cat dish crunching away.
“I see you’ve met Mr. Fluffy,” I say.
“I have,” Kate says. “And he sure is fluffy. Where was he last night?”
“He sleeps with me,” Cece says. “He got me up ’cause he hadn’t had breakfast, either. Gidget probably hasn’t had her breakfast. Can we go feed her?”
I groan dramatically, hoping to make it funny for Cece. “I forgot the dog. How could I forget the dog? She’s probably starved to death by now.”
Cece giggles. “No, she won’t. She’s got her dog feeder. But she’s probably lonesome and would like her special food.”
“Special food?” I ask, realizing that my daughter might know more about the household than I do.
Cece nods. “Manuela orders it with the groceries and keeps it in the refrigerator. Gidget gets one slice in the morning and one at night.”
Miss Bailey again proves her worth by opening the refrigerator and rummaging until she comes up with something that looks like a roll of hamburger. With Cece directing, she cuts off a slice, re-wraps the remainder of the roll, and puts it back into the refrigerator.
