Page 8 of Ice Darling
And not a moment too soon.
“I’ll tell her, Mauve,” I say, shooting to my feet.
“Take care, and don’t overdo it on your day off tomorrow,” Max says, nodding at me.
“Later, Renthrow!” Theilan and Watson wave, already turning pink in the face from all the drinking.
My eyes sweep over Cordelia again, but she sticks her nose in the dinner menu, pointedly ignoring me.
“See you later, ma’am.” I throw a curt nod at our new sponsor and hustle outside, ready to drive home to my daughter and never think about this strange, confusing night again.
Chapter Three
Renthrow
Gordie sees the nuggets first and me second. “Yay! Nuggets are here! Nuggets are here!”
Her tiny feet patter across the wooden floor as she skids to a stop in front of me. She’s already in her space-themed pajamas with a pattern of colorful planets stamped all over them. Her hair bounces in two thick pigtails.
I lift her with one hand while keeping the food balanced in the other. Giving her a nose-rub kiss, I grumble, “You have no idea what these nuggets cost me tonight, pumpkin.”
“Did it cost one hundred million dollars?” she asks, her eyes wide.
“No.”
“Then you didn’t pay much,” she says matter-of-factly. And hence lies the inestimable wisdom of someone who’s never paid a bill in her life.
I crouch and gently set her on the floor. “Go wash your hands. I’ll plate these out.”
“I want ten nuggets!” Gordie calls over her shoulder as she rushes to do what I asked.
“You can have five.”
“Seven.”
“Four,” I growl.
“Eight!”
I stop and look at her. “Gordie Anabeth Renthrow.”
“Fine.” She sighs heavily. “Six.”
“Five,” I correct her. “Smarty pants.”
She cackles like a tiny super villain and disappears down the hallway.
“Ma!” I call, passing the small living room and noticing my mother’s not there.
“I’m in here!” Mom’s voice sounds from the office. “I’m on a call. I’ll be right out!”
I step into the doorway of the office and notice my mother, staring out the window facing the backyard, her back stiff and her hand covering her mouth.
She turns when she hears my footsteps.
I lift the nuggets box, shaking the contents in question.
She slices her chin to the left in a decisive “no” and returns her attention to whoever’s on the other end of the line.
