Page 47 of Carry Me Home
Janie twitched slightly as she rolled her lips together. Mad as hell but still struggling to hold back a laugh. “He should have known better.” She cut me a disappointed look. “Seriously, Jack, you didn’t think to call me?”
“It never occurred to me,” I admitted. Rookie mistake, but shit. She’d lied right to my fucking face. The kid had zero tells. Janie couldn’t lie to save her life, but apparently that trait wasn’t genetic.
“I’m sorry,” Maya said, not sounding all that sorry. Her furtive glance shifted between us. “But we can’t return the tadpoles. The store said so. And you can’t flush them down the toilet because you’d feel bad.”
This kid actually thought she had me. Like hell was I going to be bested by a seven-year-old. “I’m sad, Maya. I was really looking forward to this project, but now it won’t be fun. Since we can’t return the tadpoles, they have to stay in my room now.”
From the devastated look on Maya’s face, this was a punishment she hadn’t considered. “For how long?”
“Until your mother thinks we can trust you again.”
Maya gasped. “But I lie alot.”
“Then I guess the tadpoles are mine forever.” I cut into my chicken with feigned nonchalance. “I think I’ll name them Thing One and Thing Two.”
A suspicious sound from Janie made me glance her way. She had a hand over her face, hiding behind it. It took a moment, but she regained her composure. “Eat your dinner, Maya.”
Maya ate her dinner, pouting the whole time. Neither Janie nor I paid her any mind. We kept a light conversation going about everything except tadpoles. The second Maya jumped up from the table and rushed to her room—to say goodbye to the tadpoles, I figured—Janie put down her fork and buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with laughter.
“It’s not funny, Janie. She told me she didn’t want to make you drive out to Denver on your day off because you were so tired. I thought she was the sweetest kid I’d ever met.” I was actually mortified.
Janie snorted. “Yeah, Jack. You got played.” She dissolved into giggles again but fought her way through it to drive home her point. “Mr. Special Forces got played by a little girl.”
God, she was pretty like this. Cheeks pink, eyes sparkling. I couldn’t even be offended that she was laughing at my expense. “Well, if you’re laughing, that means you’re not going to fire me, right?”
“I’m not going to fire you.” Her expression turned serious as she considered me. “You’re not going to quit, are you? She’s a good kid. Lying is a phase most kids go through. She’s not mean or vindictive. She’s just…” Her voice trailed off as she searched for the word.
“Cunning,” I supplied. “No, I’m not going to quit. I like cunning. It keeps things interesting.” I rubbed my hands together.
Janie rolled her eyes. “Famous last words, I guess.” Her smile was quick and bright. “She’s going to drive you crazy this summer. A good kind of crazy, I hope, but still crazy.”
Just like her mom.
“Bring it,” I said. “I’m ready.”
18
JANIE
PuttingMaya to bed was always the highlight of my day. She wasn’t much for physical affection these days, but at bedtime she still wanted to rest her head on my shoulder while I read to her from her favorite baby books even though she had graduated to chapter books a couple years ago. I knew these moments wouldn’t last forever, so I soaked up every bit of it. These were the memories I wanted to hold tight to—not the meltdowns and tears, the exhaustion and feelings of guilt and failure.
Although I planned to cling to the look on Jack’s face when he realized that he had been tricked by a little girl until my dying breath. Priceless.
Still grinning to myself, I padded to the kitchen for some chamomile tea, pulling up short when I realized he was at the table, with a deck of cards laid out in a game of solitaire. “Oh. Um, hi.”
He looked up. “Hi.”
I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. “I didn’t realize you were still up.”
“It’s eight-fifteen, Janie. I’m notthatold.”
My gaze slid to the digital clock on the oven behind him just in time to see the numbers flip from 8:14 to 8:15. No watch, no phone. Seriously, how did hedothat? Time was so slippery to me. I was always running late or trying to catch up. Twenty minutes might pass and I’d think it was only two. But Jack? He justknew.
“I meant, I thought you were in your room,” I said, slightly disgruntled, as I filled the kettle from the tap and put it on the stove to boil.
“I’m out here most evenings until about ten o’clock. Which you would know if you weren’t always hiding in your room,” he teased.
“I’m not hiding. I’m…”
