Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Yep, I’d totally run for the hills if Leslie said this about any prospective guy. Shaking my head, I roll onto my side and stare at my phone. If only a phone call was so easy.
five
wade
Goldie and I sit in the parking lot of the elementary school, both staring at the building, each for different reasons. She misses her mom and her friends in Jacksonville. I don’t blame her. Change is hard for anyone, but it’s especially hard on little kids. Everyone always says how resilient they are, but the truth is, kids only show you what they think you want to see. I know she’s struggling and I’m doing my best to make this an easy transition for our daughter, as is Ana even though she’s back in Wisconsin.
I sigh heavily. Goldie looks at me and our eyes meet. She says nothing and focuses on the school.
“Is it that bad?”
Her little shoulder lifts. “Some of the boys pull my hair.”
“Like this?” I tug lightly on one of her ringlets.
She shakes her head, causing all of her curls to move. “They pull on them hard.”
I frown. “Want me to beat them up?” Wrong or not, this is the classic parent reaction. It’s in our nature to protect our children and my fight is always ready before my flight.
“Mommy doesn’t like that stuff,” Goldie says quietly.
Right now, I feel like a complete shit for saying anything about fighting. Ana swears Goldie didn’t see Franco hit her. But how would she know for sure?
“Marigold,” I say her name softly. “When Mommy got hurt, did you see what happened?”
Her head turns slightly toward the window. “Pa pinches Mommy a lot.”
“Pinches?”
Goldie nods. “Mommy always says ‘Stop that hurts’ but he laughs and does it again. Sometimes Mommy would cry.” She drags her hand down her cheek.
I reach over and unbuckle her seatbelt and then pull her toward me. Instantly, her head buries in the crook of my neck. Ana said it was one time, but clearly, it’s been an ongoing situation. My arms tighten around my daughter in an attempt to protect her from everything.
“I’m sorry you saw Mommy get hurt,” I tell her. I don’t know why Franco did any of this or when it started, but hearing Goldie bear witness to any of it pisses me off. Never mind the fact that Franco earned himself the title of “Pa” because he’s been in my daughter’s life from the beginning, and this is how he acts. I hated the idea of Goldie calling him anything referencing a father figure role, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it. He was there, playing the role.
Goldie and I stay like this until the last of the stragglers head into the school. I turn the truck off, reach for her bag, open the door, and get out without putting her down. That’s Dad mastery in my book.
As soon as we’re on the sidewalk, I crouch until her feet touch the ground. “The only reason I’m putting you down is so those mean boys don’t tease you about your daddy carrying you.”
She nods and I check her over to make sure all her tears are gone. Her wild mane of curls isn’t unruly, thanks to Alani at A Touch of Sass showing me a long time ago how to care for my daughter’s hair.
Goldie holds my hand as we walk into school. As teachers and other parents head to their classrooms, they say hi to us.
“Everyone knows you,” Goldie says right before reaching the door to her room.
Again, I crouch so I can look into her bright blue eyes. “When you live in the same town your whole life, everyone knows everyone. Plus, I mow a lot of their yards.” The last part I say with a chuckle. “And everyone is starting to know you.”
“As the lawn boy’s daughter?” Goldie laughs.
“You’re a jokester, I see.”
Standing, I put my hand on her shoulder and guide her into Ms. Matson’s room. Brittany and I grew up together, right along with most of Magnolia.
“Good morning, Wade. Goldie.”
“Hey, Britt . . . Uh, I mean Ms. Matson.” Talk about weird, having to call your life-long friends by their last name.
With my hand still on Goldie’s shoulder, I step closer to Brittany and lean in. “Seems some of the boys like to pull on her hair. I don’t know which boys, but does the school still have the keep your hands to yourself rule?”
Brittany’s eyes widen. “Yes, we very much do. I’ll watch for it.” She turns her gaze to Goldie. “Please let me know when it happens again and who it is.”
“I don’t want to tattle,” Goldie says as she steps closer to me.
“It’s not tattling when someone is hurting you,” Brittany tells her. “If you can’t tell me, you can tell Ms. Walsh too or any other teacher. Okay?”