“Ell, you can totally afford a place around here,” I told her. “It just won’t be as fancy as those guest rooms at Abelard.”
“Listen, as I’ve explained to Mia and Lucas, I need to be able to live in the lifestyle to which I’ve become accustomed. It’s their fault for accustoming me to it, right?”
I laughed. “I’m not sure that’s how it works.” Downstairs, I heard someone knocking on my front door. “Hey, I have to go. Someone’s at my door.”
“Okay. See you tonight.”
Three
Winnie
Ending the call, I hurried down the steps, wondering if it was one of my new neighbors. A mirror hung on the wall near the front door, and I glanced at it.
My dirty blond hair, which I had not brushed yet today, was pulled back in a haphazard ponytail. I wore no makeup, and while I’d changed out of my pajamas earlier, the outfit I wore—ripped denim shorts and a cropped white top—wasn’t what I’d have chosen to make a good first impression. The bottoms of the shorts were all shredded and the shirt had a coffee stain on the front. I was barefoot too.
Whoever it was knocked again.
Oh, well—I tightened my ponytail and opened the door. Then I smiled, because through the screen, I saw the two little girls from earlier standing side by side on my porch.
“Well, hi there,” I said, opening the screen door.
“Hi,” said the taller one. She had dark hair pulled back into two pigtails—one was considerably higher than the other one—and beautiful brown eyes. It was sweet the way she held her little sister’s hand. “We live next door now, and we wondered if you had any Hello Kitty Band-Aids.”
“I have a strawberry.” The younger one—whose frizzy blond curls framed a round Kewpie doll face—popped up one knee. “See?”
Leaning over, I examined the red mark. “Oh, no! How did you get that?”
“I was running in the parking lot,” she said, like she was ashamed. “And then my dad gave me a Band-Aid, but I lost it.”
“It wasn’t a Hello Kitty one,” the dark-haired sister clarified. “It was plain brown.”
“Well, I’m not sure I have any Hello Kitty bandages, but I’m sure I can find something.” I glanced behind them, but I didn’t see any adults, and the truck had been moved to the far side of the lot. “Is it okay for you to come in?”
The girls looked at each other. “I think so,” ventured the older one cautiously.
“Where are your parents?”
“They’re not here,” said the little blonde.
“Oh.” Thinking it odd that their parents had just left them to their own devices in a new place—no way was the older one even ten yet—I motioned them inside. “Okay, well, why don’t you come in while you wait for them? My name is Winnie.”
“Like Winnie the Pooh?” the smaller one asked, and even though I’d hated the remark as a kid, I’d learned to embrace it as an adult. It usually brought a smile, and that was something good.
“Exactly.” I grinned as they stepped in. “And I even have a cat named Piglet.”
Their smiles widened. “I’m Hallie, and this is Luna,” said the big sister.
“Can we pet your cat?” asked Luna.
“Sure,” I said, leading the way down the hall. “She gets shy around new people, but I know where she likes to hide.”
The girls eagerly followed me into the kitchen, which opened up onto the living room. A sliding glass door led to a patio out the back. “This is just like ours,” said Hallie, looking around. “But flipped around.”
“I think all the units in this building are the same,” I told her, coaxing a trepidatious Piglet out from her hiding spot in the pantry. Immediately Hallie and Luna dropped to their knees and cooed over her, and eventually Piglet braved moving close enough for them to pet her.
“Wow, she must really like you,” I said, rifling through my shoulder bag. Somewhere in there I had a makeshift first-aid kit, and I thought I might have stuck some princess Band-Aids in there during the weeks I’d run summer camps.
“Do you have parents?” asked Luna, looking around.
I smiled as I pulled the kit from the bag and poked through it. “I do, but they don’t live here.”
“Are you married?”
“Nope. I live here alone.”
“Do you want to get married?” asked Hallie.
“Someday.”
“Does that mean you believe in happily ever after?”
I laughed. “Doesn’t everybody?”
“Not Daddy,” replied Hallie, “but I do.”
“Me too,” added Luna.
“Hey, look what I found!” I held up a pink bandage. “It’s not Hello Kitty, but it’s better than plain, right?”
Luna looked up from Piglet and smiled. “Much better. Can I have it?”
Hallie elbowed her sister.
“Please?” Luna added, scooting toward me on her bottom.
“Of course.” I dropped to my knees and carefully put the Band-Aid over the mark on her knee. “So how old are you girls?”
“Five.” Luna flexed her knee and smiled.
“Eight,” said Hallie. “I’ll be in third grade this year.”
“And I’m going to be in kindergarten!”
“That’s so exciting!” I stood up and threw away the wrapper. “You have a little brother too, right? And a new baby?”
Hallie and Luna both looked confused. “No,” Luna said. “But we’d like a baby. Or a hamster.”
“I thought I saw your mom with a little boy out front,” I said. “And an infant carseat.”
“Our mom was here?” Hallie questioned, her face scrunching up. Then something clicked. “Oh! That’s not our mom. That’s our Aunt Bree. And the boy is our cousin Peter. Same with the baby. His name is Prescott. He’s only two months old.”
“It’s Daddy’s two days right now,” said Luna.
“He gets us two days a week,” Hallie explained. “Because of the divorce.”
“Oh.” I nodded in understanding, feeling sympathy for them. My mom had taken off when I was younger than Luna. I knew what it was like to be a child of divorced parents. “So just your dad is moving in here?”
“Yes.” Hallie sighed. “And we love our dad, but he’s really grumpy right now because one of the legs on the couch broke and he can’t afford a new one, so he had to find his tools and try to fix it himself. That’s why we didn’t want to ask him for another Band-Aid.”
“He gets grumpy a lot,” Luna added. “And he snores.”
I laughed. “A lot of dads do.”
“He’s also really hairy, and he swears too much,” announced Hallie.
Her little sister confirmed this with a nod. “He says it was because he was a SEAL.”
“Not the kind at Sea World,” Hallie clarified quickly. “The kind that wears a uniform. But he is a very good swimmer.”