Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
I laughed. “My dad is.”
He slowly looked up at me, and his little brows tugged together. “Is he famous?”
“No, he’s just an old man who works all the time. You might meet him later.” And that would be fun. “When he gets here, we should play a game?”
He nodded.
“Okay. Whatever I say, you have to pretend it’s true. Then if you win, you get Push-Pops and another toy. Sound good?”
“Yeah! Another horse with a sword on its head?”
“If that’s what you want.”
“Yay!” He bounced on the cushions before pulling the blanket to his chin and settling in to watch SpongeBob.
My dad turned up a couple of hours later, stopping in the doorway and frowning when he saw me playing a board game with Arlo. “Drucella, who is that?”
“This is Arlo. Arlo, this is my dad, William.”
Arlo shot up and scurried across the hardwoods, stopping abruptly in front of my Dad and giving him a rigid salute. My dad just stood there, staring down at the kid like he was some kind of alien.
“I’ve never met a rich person before, mister. Do you have a big room with all your money and a diving board you jump off of and swim around in it like Scrooge McDuck?”
I laughed. Hard. The look on my dad’s face was priceless.
“No. I do not.” Dad’s narrowed gaze drifted from Arlo to me. The old man had no sense of humor. “Why is a child here?”
I pushed to my feet. “Peehead, watch TV for a minute. I need to talk to Scrooge McDuck.”
Arlo hopped up onto the couch, kicking his feet before I left the room.
Dad followed me to the kitchen.
“You said you wanted me to get a job, so I’m babysitting.”
“Babysitting?”
“Yeah. Nora normally looks after him, but she couldn’t, so…” If only he knew Arlo was actually the little brother of the Dayton bad boy who I was hot under the collar for. And I was watching him because said bad boy had been arrested—he’d keel over.
Dad leaned against the kitchen island, loosening his tie. “He looks dirty.”
“He’s a kid. Newsflash, when they aren’t raised like little Stepford drones, they play and get dirty.”
He started toward the minibar, then stopped. “You’re. Babysitting?” Like he was stunned.
“Why is this so hard to believe? Easiest money I’ve ever made. He eats anything sugary and watches cartoons. He’s me in a small person.”
With a shake of his head, he grabbed the whiskey and poured half a glass. “Well. Just. Don’t let him stain the carpet.”
“He’s not a puppy.” I rolled my eyes and got two Push-Pops from the freezer. Anyone would think the man had never been around a child.
Oh, that was right, he hadn’t.
The officer said Bellamy would be in jail for twenty-four hours, and their parents were obviously both in the hospital, which meant Arlo was not leaving. So, I pulled my phone from my pocket and pretended to check it. “Look, his mom just texted and asked if I could have him for the night. She has to work a double shift.” The lies fell from my lips so easily, I should probably be ashamed.
“Fine.”
“I’ll also need to take him to school tomorrow. Please, can I have a car?”
His eyes narrowed.
“Just for tomorrow,” I added.
He folded his arms over his chest, suspicion written all over his face.
“I’m trying to be responsible. I can’t get him there and myself to school on time without a car. I’ll give you the keys back right after school. I promise.”
He huffed out a breath, and I knew I had him. Because this might have been the most adult thing I’d ever done in my life, taking care of a kid.
“Right after school.”
“Thank you.”
“And put a towel on the bed. I don’t want him soiling the sheets.”
“Jesus. I can’t with you.”
When I rounded the corner, Arlo was lingering in the hall. He turned and ran off when he saw me.
“Little eavesdropper,” I said when I caught up to him in the lounge and tossed him the popsicle.
“Nuh-uh.”
“Um, yes.” I tickled him, and he squealed, giggling in a way I was sure these stuffy walls had never witnessed.
“What do you want to watch, Peehead? If I have to watch one more episode of SpongeBob, I’m tossing you in the pool.”
“You have a pool?”
After fighting with Arlo about the fact that he had no swimming trunks—and I was pretty sure he was lying about being able to swim—we watched a film, and he fell asleep.
I waited until my dad retired to his room to carry Arlo’s deadweight up to one of the spare rooms, then tucked him in with the unicorn I’d won him.
The idea that a stupid stuffed toy I had won the kid brought him some joy made me happy. His life was shit, and I hated it for him and Bellamy. Because Bellamy was trying his best, despite crappy circumstances.