Page 87 of Their Little Helper

I’d never been in a situation like this before but Daddy had done everything.

His quick look was actually quick and he looked under the bed and around the room for our clothes. Most of the time his words weren’t as straightforward as that, so it was amazing for them to match his actions.

“Nothing.” Frowning, Daddy straightened. “Someone was helpful.”

Huh?

I must’ve looked as confused as I felt because Daddy sighed. “Rich people. They get helpful in unexpected ways and it’s possible it was Hanson’s idea.”

Oh.

“Papa didn’t want us to have dirty clothes.” That made more sense than them magically disappearing. “Do you think he realized we’d be in our pajamas?”

Papa shrugged. “Probably not. Rich people.”

They weren’t like real people…and I was starting to understand why Daddy said Papa needed us.

“I don’t want to meet Mr. Hanson for the first time in my jammies.” That would not be good…or professional. “I’m going to call you Dally around Mr. Hanson.”

“I think both of those things are very reasonable.” Daddy looked down at himself. “Especially since I don’t want to go out wearing my jammies either.”

We were cute and Papa liked getting us dressed up, but Mr. Hanson didn’t need to know that.

“Time to raid Pokey’s closet.” Daddy stepped toward it but stopped right away. “And to make sure I don’t call him Pokey.”

That was probably a good idea too.

“We need to look like we’re nice to Papa.” And that probably started with using his name and not being…not letting Daddy be too Dally in front of Hanson. “We know he’s special but Mr. Hanson might not see it that way.”

That could come later once we’d been properly introduced.

“You’re probably right.” Getting moving again, Daddy marched into Papa’s closet. “He’s going to think we’re a weird one-night stand or something, so we’re going to need to make sure he understands we’re keeping Pokey. Ugh. Santos.”

Daddy was never going to be able to use Papa’s name…and neither was I.

“Santosdoesn’t have any real size clothes at all.” The way Daddy drew out Papa’s name made me smile but I knew better than tolaugh about the clothes thing. Daddy didn’t seem to realize that dramatic things came in small packages.

Just not with a small package.

“Why are you giggling and blushing?” Daddy’s words made me jump but his smirk made the blushing worse. “Naughty boy.”

Only because of Daddy and Papa.

“I…” I really didn’t know how to explain that, though. “Did you find me clothes, Daddy?”

Oops.

“Dally.” Trying to say his name…well…maybe his name but I’d figure that out later. “Did you find me clothes?”

Yes, no names.

Daddy was snickering but nodded. “Yep. We’ll be fine even though I’m going to be the one who looks like he’s wearing his Daddy’s clothes.”

I wasn’t sure if I could laugh at that without being rude but he was right. I’d hoped he was exaggerating but the oversized shorts and T-shirt made him look younger than he was too. So by the time we were ready to actually leave Papa’s room, Daddy was not happy and looked like a kid who was pouting.

I’d decided laughing or even smiling would be a bad idea.

“Can…can we eat breakfast here?” I wasn’t sure what the rules were for this kind of situation. “I’m hungry.”

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