Page 44 of Hell In A Handbasket
I consider sliding off the bed and hurrying us out the door. Anything to escape a conversation that includesthatphotograph, but before I get the chance to move, she swings around and searches my eyes.
“Are you going to marry my dad someday?”
Dammit, I should have gotten up!
“Um—”
“Because he was married to my mom before, but he’s not married to her anymore. And you’re allowed to get married twice if you want. If you love somebody.”
“Well—”
“And I think my dad loves you, Fifi.”
Fuckkkkkk.
“He always smiles the biggest when we talk about you. WhenIsay how pretty you are,hesays how pretty you are. Plus, he said I could staywifyou last night, which means he knows you were gonna keep me safe. And I think that means he loves you.”
“Mia—”
“When somebody loves somebody, they get married. That’s why Cato’s not married yet. He found lots of people he likes.” She scrunches her nose. “But none he loves yet, ‘cept Aunty Minka. But she’s already married, so even though you can get married twice if you want, you can’t get married twiceat the same time.”
“No,” I choke out, snickering. “You can’t get married twice at the same time. And seeing as how she’s married to a policeman, and being married twice at the same time is illegal, I bet Aunty Minka knows not to break the law like that.”
“Cos she’s smart,” she nods, positively diverted.Thank God.“So, do you think you and Daddy will get married someday?”
Shit!
“Can we talk about something else, Moo?” I push off the bed and meander toward the door, but I keep my movements gentle. Calm. This isn’t rejection. It’s just… fighting for my life. “I don’t feel very comfortable discussing this right now.”
“Oh. Okay!” She pops off the bed and follows me into the hall. “I won’t ask you about that anymore, then. Promise.”
“Thank you.” I step into the bathroom and toss my dress to the vanity, and grabbing the door, I close itmostof the way. “I’m not mad or anything like that, okay? I’m not cranky or sad that you asked. I just don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
“Okay.” She holds the photograph behind her back and flashes a bright, beaming smile. “We can talk about something else. Easy peasy.”
“Why don’t you get your shoes on, since you still don’t have those. Then give me a minute to get changed. We’ll be done about the same time, then we can go.”
“Alright!” She spins on her heels and darts along the hall, so I close the door and whip my shirt off, tugging on my jaw and snapping my mouth closed until the ache travels all the way to the back of my skull. I hiss, but I toss my shirt down and snatch up my dress instead.
“Miss Fifi?” Mia shoves the door open, her eyes bright and wide as I scramble back and slam against the shower stall. I bash my knee and earn my third injury in as many minutes. But I hold my dress up to cover my half-naked body.
Good lord, please don’t tell your father I changed in front of you.
“Mia?” I gulp and squirm, my bare skin prickling with goosebumps in response to the cold shower door pressed to my back. “Um… I’m getting changed.”
“I know. It’s okay. I don’t mind if you didn’t put your clothes on yet.” She carries her shoes into the bathroom and plops onto the closed-lidded toilet to pull them on. “I like your underwear, Fifi. The flowers are pretty.”
Kill me. Kill me now.
She giggles, her cheeks warming a bright red. “I can see a bit of your butt, though. And I didn’t know you had tattoos on your back.”
PUT ME OUT OF MY MISERY! Please!
“I have a different question, since you don’t like to talk about weddings.” She brings her hands up and covers her eyes. “You can put your dress on if you want. I won’t look at your tattoos. But I like tattoos, so’s you know. Daddy has some, too.”
I wave my hand in front of her face—swish, swish, swish—to make sure she can’t see. Then I whip my dress forward and quickly step into the fabric. “What’s your question? I’ll try to answer that one.”
“Thanks!” She drops her hands and catches me, one leg in, one leg out. “Sheesh, you take a long time to get dressed, huh?”
