A tight nod is all I get.
He moves past me with Kane’s jersey draped over his shoulder.
I have no idea what he plans on doing to get back at Kane,but I sort of wish I was there to witness it.
The Blue Devils lose by one.
Ellie sighs dramatically on the way home. I sit in the backseat with her and poke her belly. “We already have one Oscar. We don’t need two.”
Marco smiles at me from the rearview mirror.
Ellie turns in her booster with her blue cotton-candy-stained mouth. “Oscar?”
“That’s what I call your dad in my head,” I admit, trying to make her laugh. “You know…Oscar the Grouch, fromSesame Street?”
Her little brow crinkles. She looks identical to Rhodes when she does that. “Sesame Street?”
I gasp. “You don’t know whatSesame Streetis?”
Ellie shakes her head, her braid messy from her jumping up and down during the game.
“Marco!” I shout. “Do youhearthis?”
He laughs and nods.
“Next movie night, we’re watchingSesame Street.” I sit back in my seat, still dumbfounded.
Ellie looks out the window. “Does my daddy know you call him Oscar?”
I pause. “Not yet.” I’m sure the more I’m around him, the more comfortable I’ll be, and it’ll accidentally slip.
“Sometimes I call Peter a name that he doesn’t know.”
“Who is Peter?” Marco asks.
I’m wondering the same.
Ellie shrugs. “A boy in my class.”
I shift toward her, ignoring my vibrating phone so she has my full attention. I’ve learned that she doesn’t like when someonedoesn’t meet her eye or talk to her directly—something most kids probably wouldn’t notice.
Ellie is different, though.
“What do you call him?” I ask.
“Mudak,” she says fluently.
Is that…Russian?
“And that means?”
The tiniest dimple appears on her cheek. “It means asshole.”
I slap my hand over my mouth to hide a laugh. “Ellie Volkova,” I mutter after pulling myself together. “You aren’t supposed to say curse words.”
She gawks at me. “That’s why I say it in Russian. No one knows what it means.”
A grin moves against my lips. “I think I might need to learn Russian.”