Page 21 of Broken SEAL'S Secret Baby
Miss Bailey bites at her lower lip and scrunches up her forehead in thought. I can almost hear her adding and subtracting chores, creating a mental checklist.
“You,” she says, “are the CEO of a big company, and I think you’ve been just a little bit distracted. Do you think you could pay Manuela to do a little bit of coaching? Just so I know where things are, and what’s available.”
“I gave her paid time off since it isn’t her fault she’s missing work, so I don’t think she’ll mind,” I say. “She might even be glad of the distraction. I’ll give her a call and set it up.”
“Come on, Cece,” Miss Bailey says. “It’s time for your nap.”
“Will you read me a story?” my darling manipulator asks. “Daddy reads me stories and sings songs.”
“One story, or one chapter in a long book,” Miss Bailey says, firmly. “If you lie down with your eyes closed for thirty minutes after the story is finished, we can start planning your garden. Do you want a drink and the bathroom before we start?”
To my amazement, Cece says, “Ok, Miss Kate.”
I blink with astonishment. So that’s what professional childcare looks like! I go to my office to make phone calls, beginning with one to Manuela. I sincerely hope she and everyone in her family are well.
Chapter nine
Kate
“Can I have Gidget and Mr. Fluffy with me?” Cece asks when she returns from the bathroom.
I consider the request for a minute. “Mr. Fluffy can come in if he wants to, but I think Gidget needs to take a nap in her kennel. After you get up, we’ll take her for another walk and begin work on some training. I heard something about her eating a phone book?”
Cece looks ashamed. “It was Daddy’s big city phone book. He had some special stuff in it. I hid it in my desk because I didn’t want him to be mad at Gidget. When did he find out about it?”
“Probably this morning,” I say. “He seemed rather upset when he came to wake me.”
Cece looks worried. “Was he mad?”
“Not at you. I think he was unhappy that Mr. Fluffy went potty on the slacks he planned to wear. And he is worried about how we are going to manage without Manuela and Sherry.”
Cece looks upset. “Is Sherry sick?”
“I don’t think so. Her mommy is worried about her and doesn’t want her to go outside their house.”
“Oh.” Cece looks down at her hands for a minute. “I like Sherry. Can we talk to her, too?”
“We’ll see,” I say. “I’ll ask your daddy. He will have to ask Sherry and her mommy if it is all right.”
Cece thinks about that, then starts to ask, “If I’m really, really good. . . .”
“We shall have to wait and see,” I say. “Now, if you are to have a story, you must lie down on your bed. Otherwise, story time will be all used up in answering questions.”
Cece sticks out her lip but climbs up into the bed. “I want the Gingerbread Man,” she says. “And you tell it instead of reading it, cause you do it better than the book.”
As I settle down beside her, Mr. Fluffy hops up on the bed and curls up in Cece’s arms.
“Once upon a time,” I begin, “There was a little old woman and a little old man . . .”
Cece cuddles her cat, her eyes fixed on me as she listens. I carefully draw out the description of the gingerbread man, and by the time the doomed sweet is running out the door and heading down the road, Cece’s eyelids are drooping.
I make a soft lullaby of the refrain. Miracle of miracles, by the time the story reaches the cow and the calf, her breathing is even and deep. Mr. Fluffy purrs to her for a short while before engaging in little kitty snores.
I tiptoe out, get my laptop, and settle down on the floor just outside her room.
Charles Emory had forgotten to give me the household login for the Internet, but the guest access worked well enough. I log into the student portal, message all my instructors, and settle down to work on the paper for kiddie psych.
My phone vibrates softly. Text message.
