Page 2 of Single Dad Dilemma
“Your dad is pretty smart,” I said, standing up and wiping my hands over my leggings-clad thighs. “Not a kidnapper. I’m house-sitting for your neighbors while they’re gone.”
The girl’s eyes narrowed. “What are their names?”
“Scott and Patty.”
Their heads leaned toward each other as they discussed.
“Where did they go?” the boy asked.
“Arizona. They’ll be back the middle of February, which seems counterintuitive to me because it’ll still be cold as f—” I stopped, tilting my head to readjust my rusty conversation skills to be little-people appropriate. I settled on, “It’ll still be really cold. Something about a friend’s seventy-fifth birthday.”
Apparently this was the right answer, because the two gave each other a wordless look of understanding—sibling agreement that I wasn’t a psycho—and immediately slid through an opening in the fence, the girl coming through first.
Larry tilted his head and watched them approach. To their credit, they moved slow, not wanting to scare him.
“I’m Maggie,” the girl said. “Maggie King. And this is my older brother, Bryce.”
“I’m almost twelve,” he pronounced, but his eyes were locked on the dog when he said it.
“A good age,” I replied. “I’m Lily. It’s nice to meet you.”
Maggie wasn’t paying as much attention to the dog, her big eyes occasionally darting up to study me. “You have blue hair.”
My hand moved to the hair in question. “Sort of. I’m growing it out. Just blue on the ends right now.” My natural black was covered by the hat I’d worn to avoid hypothermia while Larry took his sweet fucking time to ... not pee, apparently.
Bryce was sitting on the ground, leaving his hand outstretched. Larry’s head inched forward, and I found myself holding my breath.
“His name is Larry,” I told them. “Don’t take it personally if he doesn’t react much. He’s kind of like a grumpy old man. He’s not very friendly with new people.”
“Sounds like our dad,” Maggie giggled.
My eyebrow quirked. “Your dad’s old?”
Bryce shrugged. “Sort of. He’s in his thirties.”
I rolled my eyes. “Kid, that is not old.”
He gave me a curious look. “To me, it is. How old are you?”
“Twenty-eight.” I tilted my chin toward the dog. “He’s fourteen.”
“Whoa,” Maggie breathed. “He’s ancient.”
Look at me, talking to brand-new people. Maybe it was easier because they were little people.
“Do you need to ask your parents if it’s okay to be over here?”
“He’s at work,” Maggie said. They shared a look. “He’salwaysat work this time of year.”
“What about your mom?”
“Oh, they’re divorced. She moved to Los Angeles last year. We live with our dad because he wanted us more.” Bryce gave me a matter-of-fact shrug. “It’s better this way.”
Open little shits, weren’t they? If I wanted to, I could probably get their entire life story with ease. “So you have no one watching you? You seem a bit young for that.”
“Miss Jill is there, but she doesn’t care what we do,” Bryce added. “She’s not very fun.”
My gaze cut over to the house in question. “She doesn’t sound like a very good nanny.”
