Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 104288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
I measure and chop, watching my daughter and Maren out of the corner of my eye. Maren patiently teaches Katie how to keep her body stiff to make flying easier. Katie shrieks, laughing, when Maren gently lifts her. The muscles in Maren’s thighs flex against her smooth, tanned skin as she tosses my daughter two inches into the air.
Careful. Encouraging. Cute as all get out.
I try very hard to make my whiskey sour last. I fail. Sliding the broccoli into the oven, I consider having another. Decide against it when I think about the mountain of work I have to tackle after I put Katie down. Riley’s been weird this week, distracted with the wedding stuff coming up I guess, which means I have to cover for him.
“Higher, Mare!” Katie says.
It’s Maren’s turn to laugh. “I’m not very tall, so that’s about as high as I can send you.”
The familiar pound-pound-pound of Katie’s stride fills the room until she crashes into my leg. “Daddy, you’re tall. Can you make me fly higher?”
“Where you flyin’ to, Squish?”
She clings to my leg. I pretend to try to shake her off, making her giggle. “I don’t know. Can you send me to the stars?”
“I’d like to go to the stars,” Maren says.
Katie gasps. “Do us both, then!”
My stomach lurches. Maren laughs, but her cheeks turn pink.
“Pretty sure I won’t be able to do Maren’s cheer skills justice.”
Rice is on and I have ten minutes before I need to add the shrimp, which is currently marinating in olive oil and garlic, to the pan of broccoli. So I sip the dregs of my cocktail and pick up Katie. I wipe a crumb from her face. Her forehead is damp with sweat. Maren is doing a solid job of running her ragged. She’ll go down for bed tonight, no problem.
“We have to listen to the expert,” I tell Katie as I set her down on the family room rug beside Maren. “You can listen, right?”
“I’m listening! I’m listening!”
Maren smiles. “Katie’s been an excellent listener today. Okay, y’all, so here’s how it works. Katie—”
“I’m Koala Bear.”
“All right, Koala Bear, you keep your arms out like this.” She helps Katie stick out her arms so her body makes a T. “Now, because you’re strong, you can keep your arms straight. Great job. And now Daddy puts his hands on your waist”—Maren shows me where on her own body while I try not to stroke out at her calling me Daddy—“that’s it. Y’all look great. Now we move together to toss Koala Bear into the sky.”
I do as Maren instructs, bending at the knees while keeping a solid grip on my daughter. I launch her into the air. The ceiling is nearly two stories tall here, so I can toss Katie pretty high.
She’s shrieking with delight again. Maren and I laugh. “Remember to keep your arms out,” Maren says.
I catch the breathless, giggling bundle that is Katie. “Show me how, Mare,” she says.
“Good job getting the m sound down,” I say.
Maren demonstrates the T pose again. “Like this.”
“No, I mean show me how to fly. Daddy, you do her now so she can go to the stars too.”
Panic squeezes my chest. I manage a laugh, my face going hot. “Maren is—she, um, probably doesn’t want to fly after, yeah, a long day—”
“Pleeaaassseee?”
Maren laughs again, reaching for Katie’s hand. “Why don’t we watch a video that shows us how to do it?”
“I want you to do it.” Katie grabs my hand so that she’s holding on to each of us now. “Please please please? I’ll eat all my dinner if you do it. Please!”
Maren’s eyes meet mine over Katie’s head. Please please please kindly but firmly tell my daughter no.
Please say yes—
I shove that thought from my head. I absolutely, positively do not want to put my hands on my nanny. Nope. Not at all. It’s weird and wrong and why is my pulse thumping like this?
“If your dad is okay with it,” Maren says. “And you have to poop in the potty next time you need to go.”
Katie bounces on her tiptoes. “I poop in the potty.”
“You really don’t have to,” I say to Maren.
Maren shakes her head. “It’s really okay. I miss flying. And if it makes Koala Bear happy, well . . .”
Right. This is about Katie.
Now would be a great time for my timer to go off. Surely the broccoli is almost ready?
I run a hand over my face. “Um.”
“To the stars,” Katie says. She is bursting with excitement. “Do her, Daddy, do her!”
Clenching my jaw, I take a deep breath through my nose. Will my pulse to steady. I did two tours in Afghanistan, for fuck’s sake. I can do some cheerleading moves for my kid, no problem, even if she is making accidental sexual innuendos along the way.