Page 14 of Make Your Shot
“I made breakfast, so please feel free to help yourself,” Caleb offers, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. “There are also snacks in the pantry and food in the fridge. Just make yourself at home.” He pauses, the corners of his lips twitching. “I wrote down what Tella’s day typically looks like, although I should be home in a few hours.”
He grabs a notepad from the side of the fridge and walks over, handing it to me. My fingers accidentally brush his as I grab the pad of paper. My breath catches in my throat, and his hand lingers for a passing second before he removes it.
Heat creeps up my neck once more and I immediately distract myself by looking at the helpful list he’s created. He has everything listed on three sheets of paper, covering any question I might possibly have about taking care of Tella.
“Come on,” he says softly from the kitchen door. He motions for me to follow him. “I’ll show you around, then I need to head out.”
Caleb gives me the official tour of his massive home and by the time we head up the stairs to the second floor, I’m fairly certain I could get lost here. As we headdown the hallway, he points out the bathroom at the end before we reach Tella’s room.
The door is ajar, but he still lightly knocks on the door instead of pushing it open. “Hey, T,” Caleb says as he pokes his head through the gap. “Are you ready to come eat breakfast? Miss Mia is here.”
There’s commotion in her room, the sound of toys hitting the floor before Caleb steps out of the way. Tella comes barreling through the door, coming to a halt in front of me. Her hair is pulled back in a messy braid and her jammies are pink with white polka dots.
“Hi, Miss Mia.”
“Good morning, Tella!” I smile down at her.
“Come on, T,” Caleb says, reaching to usher her downstairs. “The pancakes are going to get cold if you don’t eat them now and you know how much you dislike cold pancakes.”
She scrunches her nose in disgust. “Yuck.”
I try to suppress a small laugh with the back of my hand as I follow the two of them back down to the kitchen. Tella climbs up onto one of the stools and Caleb quickly gets her situated with a plate of pancakes, butter, and syrup.
He takes a step away as I sit down next to her. “You have my number in case you need anything.” He pauses, his throat bobbing as he swallows. “You have Andi and Riley and?—”
“Caleb,” I interject, raising my eyebrows at him. “We’ll be fine and I’m fairly certain I have everyone’s phone number that you’re about to list.”
He huffs a chuckle. “Okay, sorry.” He clears histhroat and turns to Tella. “You be good for Miss Mia.” He leans forward, kissing the top of her head. “I love you.”
“Love you too, daddy,” she says around a mouthful of pancakes.
“I’ll be back after practice,” he says, directed at me now. “Eat some of the pancakes. They aren’t as good when they’re reheated.”
“We’ll be here.” I smile at him, tipping my chin, not commenting on the pancakes. I’m not ashamed of my body’s inability to tolerate gluten, it just feels like a bit of a burden at times. Sometimes it just feels rude or awkward to turn down food because of the ingredients.
Caleb’s movements are slow as he makes his way toward the garage. I watch him for a moment—the way he pauses as he turns the knob and glances back over his shoulder. He looks at Estella first, his eyes lingering before bouncing to mine.
He gives me a small nod before finally slipping through the door, closing it behind him. I know this has to be hard for him. He’s not leaving his daughter with a stranger, but it’s clear he’s leaving her with someone he doesn’t fully trust.
I need him to trust me. I need him to feel comfortable so he’s not worrying about Tella when he needs to be focused on his career.
“Miss Mia, eat before they get cold,” Tella reminds me, half scolding me as she pushes an empty plate in my direction. I look at the pile of pancakes, back to the plate, then at the little girl next to me.
“You can just call me Mia,” I say, as she takesanother bite of her food. “I already ate breakfast, but don’t tell your daddy, okay?”
Tella swallows down her food, a grin breaking out across her lips. “So, it’s a secret?”
I nod, biting back my own grin. “I don’t want to hurt his feelings by not eating the pancakes.”
Tella bobs her head in understanding. “I won’t tell him. Cross my heart,” she promises, drawing anXacross her chest. She directs her attention back to her food, shoveling another forkful past her lips. “Do you say bad words?”
My eyebrows pull together, confusion washing over me. “Sometimes, but I try not to.”
“Well, if you do, you have to pay,” she informs me, giving me a very serious look. “Daddy has a swear jar, but you can just put your dollars in there too.”
My lips press into a straight line. “I don’t think I brought any money with me.”
Tella gives me a mischievous look, a twinkle in her eye. “You better not say any bad words then.”
