Page 35 of Double Fault

When we’ve found the correct aisle, she picks up a bag of barbeque chips and drops them into the basket, then turns to me.

“What kind of chips do you like?”

“Salt and vinegar.”

She wrinkles her little nose. “Those are nasty.”

A chuckle escapes me. “I happen to love them.” I pick one off the shelf and add it to the basket that will soon be overflowing.

“My dad does too.”

Unwilling to let myself think about the man, I say, “What else should we get?”

Maddie puckers her lips. “TimTams.”

“Tim-what?”

“TimTams.” She scurries away. “Trust me, you’ll love them. I get them every time we’re in Australia.”

It occurs to me then that this little girl is far more well-traveled than the average adult.

She finds the chocolate biscuits and picks a couple of flavors. “All right, let’s go,” she announces, skipping to the checkout.

Halfway there, I remember the reason we made this stop in the first place and drag her a few aisles over for detangler.

On the walk back to the hotel, she chatters nonstop about her friends in Texas as well as friends she’s made while traveling with her dad.

It never occurred to me that she’d see other kids along the tour. It makes sense, though, that Noah wouldn’t be the only one to bring his family along.

Upstairs, she unpacks our spoils, then directs me to sit at the table.

I plop down and let her get to work. When she opens the cuticle pushers, a mild sense of dread washes over me, but she’s surprisingly slow and gentle.

While she works, her tongue sticks adorably out of the corner of her mouth.

She takes her time applying the polish, doing a damn great job.

When she’s finished, I hold my hands up and spread my fingers wide. “This is really good.”

She beams. “Thanks. My daddy lets me do his nails for practice.”

My heart stumbles. “He does?”

“Yeah.” She nods succinctly. “He always has.”

Interesting. Despite yesterday’s incident, it’s obvious he’s a great parent, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.

“After mine dry, it’s your turn.”

She shrugs, unbothered. “I’d rather watch a movie.”

“That’s cool with me.” I blow on my nails.

“I was thinking,” she says, “Tomorrow I want to get my schoolwork done early so I can watch my dad play.”

I straighten and regard her. “You want to see his game?”

“Yeah, I like watching him, and it’s his first game back. If he loses, I have to be there for moral support.”

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