Page 6 of My Mountain Man Grump
Except she has nut-brown eyes, a full curvy figure, and her dark hair needs taming. And after I walked away from her and the mess Gran had gotten her into, myheartbeat took a long time to settle, and I noticed an ache in my loins that I’ll need to relieve later.
I’m attracted to Carrie, but who wouldn’t be? A beautiful woman turns up windswept on my property, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to go along with Gran’s schemes. What was she thinking luring a young woman out here all the way from North Carolina?
“I want to show her my hip hop routine.” Olivia’s face appears over the railing of the top bunk. “She might have some tips for me.”
I raise my eyebrows at my nine-year old daughter. “Nice try.” An image pops into my head of Carrie’s too tight GnR t-shirt that hugged her plump breasts. “But I’m pretty sure Carrie does not know anything about hip hop dancing.”
Olivia’s eyes go wide. “Her name’s Carrie!” She flops back onto the bed.
“Shit,” I mutter as I run a hand through my hair. I didn’t mean to give her name away. Now she’s less of a stranger.
“Dad!” both girls say together.
“That’s a naughty word,” admonishes Kyra, my little law enforcer.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. That’s only a word for adults. You girls don’t say that.”
Which isn’t a great parenting example, but I’ve learned where to focus my efforts as a single parent. Keeping the girls safe and healthy is priority number one. Growing up and not cussing, that’s way down the priority list.
“You stay away from Carrie okay.” I put on my stern voice so they know I mean it. “She’ll be gone tomorrow anyway.”
I don’t need to see Olivia to know she’s making a face in the dark.
“Goodnight girls. I love you.” I pull the door almost closed so a thin sliver of light from the hall falls onto the carpet of their room.
“I love you more,” Krya whispers.
“Not possible,” I whisper back.
As I pad down the hallway, I catch Kyra’s faint whisper. “Yes possible.”
I’m smiling to myself as I head to the kitchen to finish the washing up.
I take each dish out of the dishwasher and re-rinse it before returning it to its slot. It was Kyra’s night to stack the dishwasher, and she hasn’t got the rinsing part down yet.
It takes twenty minutes to clear the kitchen, which is about time to be sure the girls are asleep and they’re not going to get out of bed and come padding out like they sometimes still do.
I grab a beer from the fridge and head to the small room next to the kitchen that I’ve turned into an office. My desk faces the window, and I fire up the laptop.
The coaster is buried under a stack of paperwork which I plan to work through tonight. Bills and kids party invitations and flyers for fundraisers for the dance school where Olivia goes and the soccer club where Kyra has just joined a team. They couldn’t be more different,my girls. Olivia just wants to dance, and Kyra wants to try every sport going on.
I grab the stack of paper, and the top sheet is a birthday invite for a friend of Olivia’s. I’ve been holding off on replying because they’re going to a nail bar to get their nails done. She’s nine years old, and a nine-year-old girl doesn’t need to get her nails painted at a nail bar.
I put the stack of papers behind my laptop and my hand catches on a dusty photo frame, sending it tipping over onto the desk and sending a puff of dust motes into the air.
I pick up the frame and am met with the smiling eyes of Mel. She’s got Olivia on one hip while Kyra sleeps in the baby carrier around her waist. My big smiling head fills up too much of the frame as I angled my phone to try to get us all in without a selfie stick.
It’s taken on the Mid Peak Trail when we walked to the waterfall. Not that you can see the waterfall because our smiling faces fill the screen.
I brush my thumb over the glass cover, removing a layer of dust. I really must get in here and give the place a good cleaning.
But keeping my office clean is down that priority list too. Any single parent has to compromise about what’s important and decide where they’re going to spend their time, and I made my choice long ago. Cooking healthy meals for the girls every night? Priority. Keeping a clean office? Not a priority.
“Sorry Mel. Didn’t mean to let you get dusty.”
It’s one of the only photos we have of the four of ustogether. Time was always too short when I was back on military leave. If I’d known just how short it was, I would have quit the military then and there.
Mel would have known what to do about the birthday party. She probably would have let Olivia go, said there was no harm in it. But first it’s nail polish, then it’s makeup, and she is far too young for all that.
