The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection by Frost, J (great novels .txt) π
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I shake my head at her, still laughing. βIβll let him know.β
βHave a great trip.β
When I rise, she hugs me, burying me in her ample bosom. Itβs not quite my motherβs hugs. Nothing is. Not that she gave me many. Hugs were for Francis. But I miss them all the same.
My neighbor Tammy is waiting for me in the atrium with its cracked floor tiles, cheery plants and bright sunshine. Her eyes are red. Her last few visits with her father have been rough, and although I know Jenetta has given her the same pep-talk about not taking it personally and holding on to the good memories, I also know how hard it is.
Thinking about Logan, and about gratitude, I put my arm around Tammy as we walk to my car.
βHe told me I was old and ugly and he wanted a pretty girl to come visit him,β she says.
I squeeze her shoulder. βIβm so sorry.β
βMaybe I should dye my hair,β she says, fingering a grey lock.
βDonβt you dare. Donβt you know grey is in? Besides, he doesnβt mean it. He wonβt remember it next week, and you shouldnβt give it a momentβs thought.β
She leans into me. βThanks, Emily. You seem bright today. Good visit?β
βMmm.β I let her go as we reach my car and climb into our respective seats. βIt wasnβt bad. Listen, though, Iβm going to have to miss the next two weeks. Iβm going to Mexico.β
βOh, have a great trip. Mexico in the summer?β
I put the car in gear and pull out of the space in front of the home. Less than a dozen cars in the lot today. Not a lot of visitors. βI know. Iβm taking the factor fifty. Will you be okay getting here?β
βOf course I will. I got here for four years before you moved next door, didnβt I?β
βYou did. But, hey, if you have a bad visit and want to talk, call me, okay? Youβve got my number.β
Sheβs silent for a moment and I risk taking my eyes off the empty road to glance at her. Sheβs staring at me. Have I said something wrong? βI, uhββ
βThank you, Emily. That means a lot,β she says.
I smile at her and get my eyes back where they belong.
* * *
Logan doesnβt answer when I call, so I leave a message, grab a hoodie because the dayβs gone cool and drizzlyβsummer in upstate New Yorkβand head out to the mall. I have sexy jammies to buy.
He calls back while Iβm taking a break between Macyβs and Victoriaβs Secret. Iβm leaning against one of the mallβs huge, potted, indoor trees, watching yummy mummies and hipsters stroll by, drinking their five thousand calorie soy mochachinos and munching Mrs. Fieldβs cookies, while I sip from a bottle of water. HIM silently wishes cellulite on all of them.
βHi, sir,β I answer. βYouβve made another conquest.β
βA conquest?β He sounds amused. βAm I going to need a fresh blood test?β
βSheβd like that. My motherβs care home administrator thinks youβre a hunka-hunka.β
He laughs, that deep, rich laugh that lights me up. βIs she kinky?β
βI havenβt asked. Iβve texted you the homeβs number. You can give her a call and find out.β
βMy slateβs full.β He pauses as a group of students go by, shouting to each other as though theyβre at opposite ends of the mall instead of a foot away. βWhere are you, baby doll? Sounds like a party.β
βThe mall. I needed more pajamas.β
βThatβs not a party, thatβs purgatory. Have you gotten them now?β
βYes, but I still want to look in Sola. They have cute stuff. And I know you said pink and white, but how do you feel about purple?β
βFor the nights you donβt sleep with me, purpleβs acceptable,β he says.
I pout even though I know he canβt see it. βNo purple, then.β
He chuckles. βBaby doll, Iβve got to go. I was on with the cruise people when you called and Iβve got another call coming up. Theyβre on West Coast time, so these calls could go late, but I want to hear your voice again and we definitely need another bedtime story tonight. How about I call you at eleven?β
βIβd love that, sir.β I grin at a passing pair of women who are giving me very strange looks. βThe straights are staring at me, sir.β
βFlash them your tits.β
βSir!β
βDo it. Right now.β
I squeeze my eyes shut, then do as Iβm told. Thank God I wore a sports bra today. Still, what Iβm doing is bad enough. The women stare at me in open-mouthed shock before hurrying away.
βWhat happened?β Logan asks.
βThey ran away. Probably to call mall security.β
He chuckles. βThatβs a good girl for doing what youβre told. Go finish your shopping, and if mall security stops you, call me. Daddy will take care of it.β
βYes, sir. Youβre crazy, sir.β
βAll the best people are, baby doll.β
I grin at the Alice in Wonderland reference before I say goodbye.
Mall security doesnβt stop me, and I find three super-cute sleep sets, in pink and white, at Sola, to top the two I found at Victoriaβs Secret and the fairy tale nightie from Macyβs. I plan to do laundry once on the cruise, so thatβs enough for ten days. Clutching my packages, I skip back to the car.
* * *
Logan calls a minute before eleven. I love how punctual he is. Iβll always be able to count on him being where he says heβs going to be, when he says heβll be there. Nothing like Ash, or Matthew, who was a sweetheart, when he wasnβt beating me up, but chronically fifteen minutes late.
Iβve got the phone propped on my teddy again, and Iβm already under the covers with the doors locked, and my teeth brushed.
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