Page 42 of Shy Santa

“She did.” I paused, trying to think how I wanted to handle this.

Standing, Ace smirked at me. “She wasn’t in her room, so I wasn’t sure.”

Sighing, I set the rag down. Ace might only be eight, but I was sure Dianne would’ve had some general talks about sex and men and women. Especially if she knew her time was coming.

“Ace, what did your mom tell you about sex?” My ears burned as I asked the loaded question.

Her nose wrinkled in a vaguely familiar way. “She said that it’s what a man and woman did when they loved each other. She said I should wait for someone special to share it with.”

That was Dianna. She didn’t mince words.

“Well, Addy will stay in my room when she stays over, unless she wants her own bed.” I hedged, trying to avoid talking specifics with my daughter.

When Gran sat me down to share the sex talk, I wanted to die of humiliation. She got way too into details and finally I begged for the talk to be over. She only agreed if I sat down and talked with Gerald about it. Which she ended up setting up for me the next night after both he and Shirley came for dinner.

Gerald took pity on me and handed me a box of condoms; told me to always check the expiration date and to never trust a chick to say she was on the pill or who insisted on using her condoms.

“Okay.” Ace shrugged and walked to the trash and dumped the full dustpan before coming back to sweep up more.

With her occupied, I went about grabbing ingredients for some pancakes and eggs. “You eat yet? Want a second breakfast?” I asked, cracking eggs into a bowl.

“Second breakfast please.” Ace said absently.

We worked in comfortable silence. After cleaning the mess, Ace sat at the island and colored some pictures.

“Dad?”

“Yeah?” I flipped the last pancake and plated up three plates of eggs.

“Is Addy coming down to breakfast? Or should I go get her?” Ace asked, looking up at the ceiling.

I paused, not sure if I could wake Addy. But didn’t have to think more on it when the kitchen door opened, and she stood there looking rumpled in a pair of pajamas she must have grabbed from her room.

“Morning Addy. Sleep good?” Ace asked. Laughter and mischief played in my daughter’s eyes.

“Morning. Yessss. Coffee.” Addy hissed as she grabbed the pot and filled a cup. Chugging it black, she hissed when the hot liquid hit her mouth but didn’t stop downing it like it held life.

“Is Ms. Shirley dying?”

Liquid sprayed from Addy at Ace’s question. I looked between the two of them, not sure where the question came from.

Choking a little, Addy grabbed a kitchen towel and wiped her face and turned to the counter.

“Addy?” Ace prodded when her question wasn’t answered, her brows pulled tight together.

“What makes you ask that?” Addy asked, her back to us.

Ace glanced at me. “Ms. Shirley looked like my mom yesterday.”

Spinning around, Addy rushed over to Ace and wrapped her in a hug. “I shouldn’t have taken you. Shirley didn’t want you to know.”

Setting down the silverware I had in my hand, I turned off the burners and walked around the counter and pulled out a chair.

“Why wouldn’t she want me to know?” Ace wiped a tear away. “She’s family. She watches me and loves me. I love her. We should spend time with her. Ms. Shirley shouldn’t be alone.”

“Ace, it’s not up to us. Maybe she doesn’t want people around when she’s not feeling good.” I laid my hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently.

Ace shook her head. “No, Mommy always said that we should spend our time with family, even when we were sick. They’d help us feel better.”

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