Page 26 of Nicole
“Hey, kiddo, Chelsea needs me for something.”
I glanced at the clock. Six whole minutes he managed to carve out for his daughter. Real Father of the Year material there.
“Oh.” The shine in Sierra’s eyes lost a bit of its sparkle. “But I wanted to talk to you about—”
“Next time, pumpkin. I gotta go. Love you.”
“Love—” she started to say, but the connection had already been severed. “…you too.” She handed me the phone and forced a smile.
I was her mom. I knew when she was faking cheeriness. Besides, I’d done the same thing minutes earlier.
“Dad says he’ll be at my first game.”
I reached over to hold her hand. “You’ll have your own cheering section. Maybe I’ll even get one of those big foam fingers and make up a chant about you being number one.”
Her lips twitched but then flatlined again. Darn Greg. He only called about once a week. He should be able to spare more than six minutes.
“You know what we need?” I asked as I pushed off the table top.
“What?” Sierra stared up at me with a hint of interest.
“We need to have ourselves a little fun.”
“What kind of fun?”
What kind, indeed. I searched my brain for things an eight-year-old would enjoy, but it was like walking into a dark room and not being able to find the light switch.
Sierra regarded me with hope. I couldn’t let her down.
I may not have known off hand where to find fun.
But I knew someone who did.
10
Drew
“You can’t be serious.” Nicole’s gaze scanned the expansive property, taking in the bright colors and carnival-like amusements erected over every square inch of the place. Her mouth puckered, and a sort of queasy expression flitted across her face.
I laughed and pointed her toward the sign. “It’s a family fun center, Nicole. Fun is literally in the name.”
Her throat worked as she swallowed. “You’re a doctor. You can’t possibly think germy places like this are a good idea.”
I stepped in front of her, blocking her view of the striped awning over the bumper boats pool and forcing her to look at me. With my fingertips, I gently pushed dimples into her cheeks, coercing her lips to spread.
She swatted my hands away.
“Smile. Fake it if you have to.”
She grimaced instead.
“Fun always starts with a smile. Besides, you can trick your brain into happiness with the muscles of your face. The act of smiling produces a chemical reaction in your brain that releases happiness hormones. So even if you start with a fake smile, you’ll eventually feel real happiness.”
Her teeth bared in the worst imitation of a smile I’d ever seen. “I’m going to check your research.”
I rocked back on my heels. “I would expect nothing less. But while you’re looking stuff up, check out Proverbs 17:22. ‘A cheerful heart is good medicine.’”
“‘But a broken spirit saps a person’s strength.’ Yeah, okay, you’ve made your point.”
