Page 13 of The Baby-whisperer and the Brute
When I offered my own hand in return, it was completely swallowed in the guy’s steady, but not overly hard, grip.
Before I could give him my name, one of his daughters yelled to get his attention. “Daddy, watch me.”
The younger of the two girls was jumping with all her might, gaining some pretty impressive height with each bounce. When her nightgown flew up over her head, Sullivan turned back to me, his face flushing with color.
“I’ve been trying to get them to go home and put on some clothes and shoes, but I’m striking out. You must think I’m a terrible father.”
A swell of compassion supplanted any feelings of discomfort I had with him.
“Not at all. You wouldn’t believe how many kids I’ve seen show up for school in footy pajamas. PJ’s are comfy. Comfy is good.”
That was when I decided to move beyond sympathy and help him. “Not listening to Daddy isnotgood.”
I’d planned a treasure hunt game for after the gender reveal, but there were still at least forty-five minutes until then, and that was plenty of time.
Earlier today I’d hidden a treasure chest filled with small cardboard swords, eyepatches, and costume jewelry and had prepared colorful picture clue cards for the pre-reader party guests to guide them from one spot to the next until they found the treasure’s hiding place.
Ducking my head into the bounce house through its mesh and canvas flap, I said, “Who wants to play a super-fun game?”
Children scrambled from the bouncer with cries of, “me!” and “I do!.”
When they quieted, I explained the treasure hunt to them, adding a line to the instructions specifically for the two Reece girls.
“Is everyone ready? Okay, get your shoes on and let’s go.”
Both their little faces fell in dramatic despair. The younger one wailed, “Wait. I got no shoes.”
“You have no shoes,” I corrected gently then asked a question to which I already knew the answer. “Did you take them off here at the party?”
“No, they’re at our house,” the older girl said.
“Oh dear.” I feigned grave concern. “That’s a problem.”
After a moment I held up a finger and pretended I’d just had a great idea. “Maybe we could delay the treasure hunt for just a few minutes… if you think you can go and get them on very quickly. And treasure hunting will be difficult in your nightgowns, so some regular clothes would be good too.”
“We can be fast,” the big sister said.
“Fast,” the little one echoed, bouncing in eagerness.
“Okay then. I’ll time you and see how fast you are. Ready, set… go!”
The girls spun around and raced across the yard toward the opening in the hedge leading to their own back yard.
Next to me, Sullivan gasped. “You’re a miracle worker.”
He started after his daughters but turned back to face me as he jogged backward. “Hey. I never got your name.”
I hesitated before answering. For some reason it felt like a big deal to give him my name. People met and exchanged names every day all day long in every part of the world, and it meant precisely nothing.
But with this man, it felt… significant. It felt like the beginning of something. And I had no business beginninganythingwith Sullivan Reece.
I should just ignore his request, wave and yell, “Nice to meet you,” or maybe, “Good luck,” and pretend the wind had carried his question away.
Sometimesshouldjust wasn’t happening.
My heart thundered in my chest. I swallowed hard and moistened my lips. “It’s Angelina.”
Sullivan Reece smiled widely, turned around, and ran to the far edge of the lawn, disappearing around the end of the tall hedge and leaving me breathless.
