Then came Maddie to the rescue. Leave it to his sweet, unassuming daughter to clear things up with one heartfelt request. It wasn’t the first time he could have stood to learn a lesson or two from his daughter, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. But for now at least, Paige Parker was staying for the rest of the week. Even he could set things right in that amount of time.
He stood beside the sofa, watching the scene unfolding in his living room. Paige and Maddie sat side by side on the couch, dutifully supervising, although it was hard to say which one of them was in charge. In the end, his money was on Maddie. Each time the vet began an examination of one of the pups, Maddie would introduce the dog by name, then turn to Paige and ask her to explain why she’d chosen it for that particular puppy. At first Paige seemed a bit embarrassed by the whole thing—was that a blush he she saw on her cheeks?—but she was a good sport, and by the time they were done, even the doctor was cracking Ninja Turtle analogies.
“Does this mean the puppies are going to be okay?” Maddie asked after Lucas showed the vet to the door.
“That’s exactly what it means,” he told her.
“And does that mean I can hold them now?” She looked up at him from beneath impossibly long lashes. “Pretty pleeease?”
“Yes,” Lucas said. “As long as you sit on the couch and are very gentle.”
Maddie scurried onto the couch and patted her lap. “I’m ready.”
One by one, Paige handed her each of the puppies for a cuddle and a kiss.
“Why don’t we let these guys have a little rest with their momma,” Lucas suggested when she was done. “This has been a lot of activity for them in one morning.”
“It’s okay,” Maddie said. “I promised Paige I would show her my favorite places on the beach.”
“That’s right,” Lucas said, pretending that he’d forgotten. “Where do you think we should start?”
Maddie narrowed her eyes. “She didn’t ask you, Daddy.”
Ouch, blocked by his own kiddo.
“Think we could let him join us?” Paige asked. Her question was spoken in a whisper, but loud enough for him to hear.
Maddie twisted her mouth while she considered her answer. Paige watched her with a warm smile on her face. “Yes,” his daughter finally said. “We need someone to carry the bucket.”
“The bucket?” Paige asked.
“For the seashells, silly.” Maddie slid off the couch and scampered toward the kitchen.
“Looks like we’re headed to the beach,” Lucas said as they followed her. “Thanks for scoring me an invite.”
Paige laughed. “Anytime.”
By the time they reached Maddie, she was standing by the door with a bucket in one hand and one of her favorite toys in the other. “Floppy wants to come,” she said. “Stanley and Stinky are going to stay here and watch the puppies.”
“Nice of them to offer their services,” Lucas said with a straight face. “You and Paige can head on out. I’m just going to pack a few things in my backpack, and I’ll be right there.”
Maddie reached for Paige’s hand. “Come on, I’ll show you where the baby turtles hatched last summer.”
“Turtles hatch in the summer?” Paige asked. “Not in February?” Lucas knew full well she was taking a swipe at him for yet another unfulfilled promise made when she booked the room. But the smile she flashed him as she looked back over her shoulder told him that Paige Parker could care less about the amenities. She was exactly where she wanted to be.
His daughter, on the other hand, sure was in a rush to get away from him. Little twerp never even looked back. She did, however, give him one more chore to do before joining them.
“Don’t forget the kite, Daddy.”
Lucas smiled to himself. Second fiddle, huh? Yeah, he could live with that.
* * *
Paige and Maddie walked hand in hand across the wooden planks that formed a path through the tall grass until they reached a sandy stretch of beach. Maddie showed her where the turtle eggs had been and explained how some people from the mainland had come out to set up “yellow tape” and took turns sleeping in beach chairs until the babies hatched. She was talking a mile a minute, with more enthusiasm than even Sammy on his best day, but best Paige could tell, when the babies hatched, everyone huddled around to keep other animals from eating them before they made it to the water.
When Maddie was done, she took a deep breath and stared out at the water. Her hair danced in the wind, but other than that, she was perfectly still. For all of two minutes.
“Paige is a funny name,” she said out of the blue.
“Well, it’s not spelled the same as the page in a book,” Paige explained.
“My mom named me after a book too,” Maddie said, seeming to completely miss Paige’s point. “A girl in a book,” she qualified. “Not the paper part.” She began skipping down the sand.
Paige walked faster to keep up. “Which book is that?” She suspected she already knew the answer, but she wanted to hear Maddie tell the story. Because what had appeared at first to be a nonsensical transition now seemed like a necessary conversation.
“Madeline.” Maddie stopped skipping and stood perfectly still as she recited the opening lines to Ludwig Bemelmans’s classic tale. “‘In an old house in Paris that was covered with vines, lived twelve little girls in two straight lines. The smallest one was Madeline.’”
When she was finished, she looked up at Paige. The expression on her face changed from one of bliss to concern in a matter of seconds. “If my dad goes to live with my mom in heaven, will I go to live in a house like Madeline did?”
Paige’s heart ached. How scary it must be for this sweet child not only to lose one parent, but to worry about the fate of the other as well. And now there she was, looking to Paige for an answer she wasn’t qualified to give. Paige wasn’t family. She wasn’t even a close family friend. She’d only met Maddie that morning, but that didn’t do anything to lessen her desire to comfort the young girl.
“I’m sure not.” She had no idea what Lucas’s will stipulated for Maddie’s care, but she felt quite certain that she would not go to an orphanage. At the very least, she had an aunt.
Maddie breathed an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Good, because I would hate to have to walk in two straight lines,” she said before zigzagging through the sand toward a cluster of seagulls, her arms wide as though she herself were a bird.
Paige smiled to herself. There she’d been, worried about Maddie’s fears about the future, when in reality the frown that had creased her tiny forehead was over something far simpler. Paige couldn’t blame her really. The pictures of that spooky-looking nun marching those girls around Paris like little toy soldiers had always bothered her as well. In her opinion, the only thing worse was the creepy child collector in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Honestly, what were some adults thinking?