Page 89 of Falling for You

Chapter Twenty-One

Chloe

“What would you like?”

The little girl sitting in the chair in front of me waiting to get her face painted looks so nervous she could vomit all over my shoes.I know the feeling, kiddo.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, what kinds of things do you like?”

“I like, um, swimming and turquoise.”

Good. A color is something I can work with. Albeit a very specific color. “Turquoise, huh?”

“Mm hmm.” She nods her head quickly and her eyes, the same color that she just told me she loves, twinkle at me.

“Okay then. I think I have an idea. What’s your name?”

“Hillary.”

“Hillary, I’m Chloe.”

“I know.” I can’t remember introducing myself at the beginning so I’m not sure how she knows my name, unless she overheard someone else mention it.

She bites her lip and never takes her eye off me in the mirror. “I like your costume.”

That gets her attention back on me. And a beaming smile. “Fanks. My mommy made it.”

Wow. That’s impressive. She’s wearing a princess costume that looks like it could be in a Disney movie. “She did? That’s really amazing. She did a great job.”

Her eyes sparkle and she nods excitedly. “Yup. She made it special for tonight. My unca Efan is my fairy godmother.”

I pause, paint brush dangling from my fingertips. So this is the little girl he dressed up for. Still, though…

“Uncle Ethan?”

“Uh huh. He’s da best ever. He saved us.”

I cock my head to the side, focus on painting her face into something that she’ll love while trying not to panic wondering what Ethan has to do with her family.

Trying not to sound too curious, I ask, “He saved you?”

“Our house burneded up and he gave us a place to live. But don’t tell him I told you. He gets embawassed when my daddy says it.”

I don’t know how to respond because I’m thoroughly confused.

“Hillary?” a woman’s voice calls out, just a small hint of worry in her voice.

“She’s right here.”

“Oh thank goodness. She’s been determined to come out here all night and I kept putting her off because I kept getting stopped to talk about the house.”

“Sorry. I’m Samantha, this one’s mama.” She holds out a hand to shake mine but I’m full of face painting tools. “Ha! Sorry again. Anyway, I’m Samantha and the party funds from tonight’s donations are going toward the house we’re building.”

“I’m sorry, I am still confused.”

She giggles and leans against a chair, watching as I continue to paint her daughter’s face. “I’m assuming Rex hasn’t filled you in on much?”

---