“What is it?” Max asked.
“The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane. You should ask your parents to read it to you.”
I felt Trina watching me. “What?” I asked, expecting a lecture about my reading taste.
She shrugged then ducked her head, avoiding my gaze. “I loved that story, too. Fourth grade read-aloud. I made my mom buy it for me because I loved it so much.”
“Oh.” I waited for her to say something else, but she busied herself putting the puppets into a plastic tub.
“How long before snack?” Max asked, tugging on my arm.
“Um,” I glanced at Trina.
She jumped up and put her hands on her hips. For someone so short, she had great legs.
Shit. What was wrong with me today?
“Didn’t you read the schedule, Slade?”
Whoa. I didn’t care what her legs looked like or how long her eyelashes were when she treated me like one of the kids.
“No, I didn’t. I was busy last night.”
“I’ll bet you were,” she muttered, kicking at the carpet with her flip-flop.
“It’s the MPS,” Gilly whispered loudly to Max. “My mom says it makes girls crabby.”
“Gilly!” Trina snapped, whipping her head around like that chick in The Exorcist. “That is a very inappropriate thing to say.”
Gilly gave us an angelic smile. “You mean like calling Slade a playboy?”
“I still don’t see why that’s a bad word,” Max said. “What’s wrong with playing?”
Why couldn’t I be working in Victoria’s Secret? I’d be surrounded by hot chicks trying on slinky underwear and—
“Snack time,” Trina announced. She reached down to grab the kids by the hands and then dragged them toward the door.
I hustled after them as the kids howled in protest and the librarians glared at us.
Once outside, Trina waited until I caught up to them. She took a deep breath but didn’t say anything.
Her eyes looked shiny. Was she trying not to cry? Where was Alex when I needed him? Weepy chicks were his specialty.
“So,” she said, taking a deep breath. She raised her wrist to her nose and sniffed.
This chick was all kinds of crazy.
“We need to discuss appropriate behavior.” Trina glared at Gilly, who ignored her, humming loudly and hopping across a faded hopscotch on the sidewalk.
“It’s not nice to make fun of other people,” Trina continued. “Especially in a public setting.”
Gilly stopped hopscotching and eyed Trina warily. “The library is public?”
Trina glanced at me like she wanted my help. But with what?
“Yes.” Trina sighed, looking at me with annoyance. “Anywhere outside of your house is public.”
Gilly started hopping again. “At least I kept my clothes on.”
Max started hopping next to Gilly. “I want to go back inside and get some books.”
Trina glanced at me, but I still couldn’t figure out what she wanted me to do. I’d have to wing it.
“So we have snacks in the car, right?” I shot her my best grin, but she just tugged at her hair in frustration. I usually didn’t like short hair on girls, but it wasn’t terrible on Trina. She reminded me of an anime character, especially with her big eyes. I looked away. I needed to get a grip.
She huffed an exasperated sigh. “We’ve got apple slices and crackers. Let’s eat, then we’ll go back inside and get books.”
Once the kids were settled under a tree with food, and we sat on a bench nearby, I decided to make her laugh, hoping to relieve some of her embarrassment from the puppet show.
“Someday Gilly will have MPS,” I whispered, “then she won’t be making fun of it.”
She didn’t laugh or even crack a smile.
“Right?” I forced a laugh, but she stared at me like I was a giant dog turd.
God. If she couldn’t laugh at herself, or at least the kids, she’d never make it as a nanny. Besides, she should be used to Gilly’s special brand of insanity.
“Come on, Trina. You’ve gotta admit that whole puppet disaster was funny.”
She crossed her arms, shifting her chest up and out. I made myself look at her face, but then I got distracted by her eyelashes again, and those incredible eyes.
“Maybe if she’d made fun of you, you’d understand.” Trina sniffed her wrist again. What the hell?
I tugged at the shark tooth hanging from a cord around my neck. It was supposed to be my good luck charm, but it sure wasn’t working today.
“They did make fun of me,” I said. “Gilly called me a playboy. My Elmo self got sexually assaulted by a punk Miss Piggy.” I waited for her laugh, but it didn’t come.
She blinked at me, those long eyelashes fluttering.
“Anyway.” I tilted my head toward the kids, who squirted each other with the straws from their juice boxes. “What’s next after the library?”
And then an amazing thing happened. Trina actually smiled. Just a tiny bit. But still.
“You didn’t even open your binder, did you?”
I shrugged, returning her grin, hoping hers wouldn’t fade too fast. “Nah. But I will. Tonight. I promise I’ll read the whole thing.”
Her laugh surprised me. It was deep and…sort of sexy.
“You will not.” She looked different when she smiled. Almost like a whole other person. “You’ll go out with…whoever…tonight, and sleep all day tomorrow, and on Friday you’ll show up completely clueless about the plan.”
I put a hand on my heart. “That hurts, Clemons. I cannot wait to read that binder. It’s right next to my bed.”
She laughed again and kicked the ground with her sandal. That must be her nervous tell. I’d have to remember that.
The rest of the day didn’t completely suck. After we left the library, Trina dragged us on an architectural tour of the neighborhood, talking about mullioned windows and Tudor something or other.
The poor kids were bored out of their minds, so I spiced things up by creating my own history, telling the kids about the ghosts that haunted each of the houses. Gilly ate it up, screaming and running around, saying she could see the ghosts in the windows. Max stayed quiet, but he carried a rubber T. rex in each hand, just in case.
Eventually Trina gave up on her lecture, telling us we had no appreciation for the history of our city, blah, blah, blah.
It was a good thing Mrs. G. had hired me. If she hadn’t, this summer would be an epic fail for the kids.
Chapter Ten
Trina
Friday, June 7
My phone pinged with a text from Desi.
Are we on for movie 2nite?
Yep. Will call later.
Maybe a funny movie would clear my head of whatever disasters happened with Slade today.
When I staggered into kitchen, still yawning, Mom handed me a plate of toasted waffles.
I took the plate and sat down. “Five-star cuisine. I like it.” She grinned and handed me a cup of steaming java.
“You’re a mind-reader.” The coffee tasted bitter and the waffles were burned, but I kept that to myself because I loved her, and knew she was just as tired as me.
She sat down across from me, savoring her coffee like it was a gourmet latte.
“I figured you could use the extra caffeine jolt. Third day of nannying and all. How’s it going? How’s the other nanny?”
We’d hardly seen each other all week because of her crazy schedule at the hospital. I debated how much to tell her because, one, she would totally disapprove of the secret double salary, and two, hopefully Slade would be history after today.
“It’s going okay.” I swallowed a mouthful of partially frozen waffle. “The other nanny’s all right. Just not quite as dedicated as me.”
Mom smirked. “Not many people would be.”
“Was that a compliment or an insult?”
She laughed. “Maybe both. So what’s up? Did she like all the activities you planned for the week?”
I decided I could tell her part of the truth. “He hated all the activities. He would rather play hide-and-seek all day than actually teach the kids anything enriching.”