Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 138072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
“Hey there,” he says as he kneels down, eye-level with her. “Don’t say that too loud. People might hear.”
“Mommy says she got my drawing to you,” she says excitedly, whisper-shouting. “Did you see?”
He smiles slightly. “I did.”
I can barely hear his voice. He stares at her like he’s committing her face to memory, like he fears this may be the only time he ever sees it.
“Did you like it?” she asks. “Did it make you better?”
“I loved it,” he says. “And it made me feel a lot better. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Breezeo!”
His gaze meets mine. He cocks an eyebrow. He’s waiting for me to do something, but what?
“Maddie, sweetheart, we’ve talked about this,” I say. “He’s not really Breezeo, remember?”
“I know that.” She rolls her eyes dramatically, like I’m being crazy. “He’s Johnny, like on the TV and the papers and stuff, but he’s still Breezeo too, right?”
“Right… I think.”
“Sounds about right to me,” he says, holding his left hand out to her. “My name’s Jonathan, though. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
She grabs his hand, shaking it wildly. “Mommy calls me Maddie. You can call me Maddie, too!”
“Maddie,” he repeats.
It’s a sweet moment—or well, it should be sweet. Tears sting my eyes that I blink away, a lump in my throat that I force down, not wanting to confuse Maddie with my reaction.
“What are you doing here?” I ask quietly when Jonathan stands back up.
“McKleski sent me to get milk,” he says. “She told me to make myself useful.”
“Yeah, uh…” I glance toward the store. “You’re not going to want to do that. The cashier that’s working, well, she’s a bit of a Breezeo fangirl.”
“Me, too!” Maddie says.
I grasp Maddie’s shoulder, pulling her back to me. “Yes, but you, little one, know how to keep a secret.”
“I do,” she says, smiling widely as she looks up at me. “Like that one time when you told me that secret that you didn’t like—”
I don’t even know where she’s going with this, but I don’t let her finish, clamping my hand down around her mouth to muffle her words, hissing, “Secret, remember?”
Jonathan laughs. “Well, then. I guess no milk for McKleski today.”
Maddie yanks my hand away from her mouth, too excited to stay quiet. “I can get her milk!”
“No, I, uh…” Crap. “I can do it. It’ll only take a second. Just…” Crap. “Uh…” How did I get myself into this? “Just wait here. Do you think you can…?” Crap. Crap. Crap. I wave between him and Maddie. “For just a second?”
His eyes widen when he realizes what I’m asking, like he can’t believe his ears, which is funny, because I can’t believe it came from my own freaking lips. Did I seriously ask him to watch her for me?
“Sure,” he says hesitantly, like he expects me to change my mind, and I want to, but I can’t, not when I’ve already said it. “If you’re sure.”
I nod. “I’ll be right back.”
I try to be calm about it, to not raise any alarms, my footsteps determined as I head back into the store. I make my way to the back, grabbing a gallon of milk, before heading for the register with it, my heart racing the whole time. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe I just did that. I left her with him, just left her there—with him—just like that. He could take her. He could run. For all I know, that was his plan all along. Maybe he doesn’t even need milk.
“Forget something?” Bethany asks when I set the milk in front of her.
“Yeah,” I mumble. “Stupid me.”
She rings it up, and I pay for it, snatching up the gallon of milk before she can make conversation.
Stepping out of the store, I exhale shakily, spotting them still standing there together. Maddie is talking nonstop, while he’s grinning down at her like he’s mesmerized.
His smile dims a bit when I approach. He almost looks disappointed that I’m back. I try to brush that off as I shove the milk at him, but my stomach knots.
“Thanks,” he says. “Maddie was telling me all about the ducks.”
“Is that right?” I glance at her. “We should probably get over there.”
“I told him we got kale!” she says, squeezing the bags. “He says that’s crazy, ‘cuz they eat bread! But he’s the crazy one, ‘cuz bread is bad for the ducks, but he doesn’t believe they eat the kale!”
“Well, then,” I say when she pauses to take a breath. “Guess he doesn’t know much about ducks.”
“Guess not,” he agrees, lingering there like he doesn’t want to leave.
“He should come!” Maddie declares, looking at him with wide eyes. “You can feed the ducks!”
“I’m not sure about that, sweetheart,” I say.
“Why not?” she asks.
Why not? It’s a good question, one I’ve got no answer for—at least, no answer she’ll understand. “I’m sure he’s busy.”