Page 529 of The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The Second Collection
I open one eye and look up at the low, green ceiling. “KFC?”
“Iz tradition where my family comes from. People there don’t celebrate Christmas because they’z mostly Buddhists, but they go out for KFC on Christmas Day.”
I grin and let my eye close. “I love that tradition. Much better than dry turkey that makes me need a hundred-year nap. KFC for Christmas dinner it is.”
We linger in the loft, talking, tickling, and dozing after another round of orgasms, until I’m confident we’re close to our allotted three hours.
Reluctantly, I pull Cynnie out of our lofty love-nest and lead her back to the security rooms. Her tights make a damp scritch-scritch noise as we walk, which wreaths my face in a Santa-sized smile.
“I filled up that ho-ho-hole to the brim, didn’t I, bumble baby?”
She thumps my shoulder with her little fist. “Bad Oppa.”
The laugh that bubbles up out of my chest can only be described as jolly.
Jack and Sammi are waiting for us in the security rooms. Jack’s sitting on a bench near the lockers where we left ourluggage with Sammi in his lap. They’re already back in their street-clothes. Jack’s reading to Sammi from a book with a cartoon reindeer on the cover. That seems like excellent aftercare, so I lead Cynnie over, take a seat on the bench next to Jack, and pull Cynnie into my lap.
When he reaches the end of the story, I ask Jack quietly, “No sign of the other four yet?”
Jack grins. “There was an ambush. Which Bravo took badly. Punishment ensued.”
“Ah, yes. I was also on the receiving end of a little-sized conspiracy.”
“We’ll have to discourage any further such alliances,” Jack says.
“With extreme prejudice,” I agree.
“We’z a hive now,” Cynnie says with a sniff. “You don’t have a ho-ho-hope of keeping us apart.”
Jack and I chuckle.
When Bravo, Henry, and their very chastened littles return, I hold a quick conflab with the other carers. Everyone caught the holiday spirit and got their merry on in the maze. We agree to split the cost of any damages and I set off the EM pulse device.
There’s no bright light. No boom. Electromagnetic pulses are invisible to the human eye, make no sound humans can hear, but any recording equipment has a very short life expectancy. The lights don’t flicker, which I take a good sign I haven’t damaged anything beyond the solid-state electronics. In a few days, I’ll contact Ora and offer to replace her server and any connected machines.
On the ferry ride back to City Island, I mention our fried chicken plans to Jack. He’s quiet for a moment, then asks, “Would you mind a tag-along?”
“Happy to have you,” I assure him. “No other plans?”
Jack shakes his dark head. “Sammi’s mother would draw and quarter him if he doesn’t show up at home, so I usually take him to the airport early in the morning. His parents are still hoping he’ll marry the girl next door, so I’m not welcome. My own family took my ex’s side in the divorce, so holidays are little prickly for me back home, too. My family’s also very Catholic and I’m very lapsed so ... easiest to spend the holidays by myself. I usually volunteer at a shelter or soup kitchen. I don’t know why I didn’t make any arrangements this year. Just not in the holiday spirit, I guess.”
Having spent far too many holidays alone myself, I know exactly what underlies his lack of motivation.
“We’d love the company,” I tell him. “If you don’t mind wrangling a teenager, there’s a kid in my building who’s often alone for the holidays. We could make it a night of fried chicken and video games.”
Jack chuckles. “That would be great. I actually like teenagers. Their brattiness is reassuringly familiar.”
“Hey!” Sammi objects.
We all chuckle.
Max, Cynnie, and their friends return in Midnight Fleur’s Monsters.
i’z do
MAX
“You’re going to be late,” Logan says, tugging on my sleeve.
