“Do you have kids?” she asked out of the blue.
“Nope.”
“Do you have a wife?”
“Not one of those, either.” I answered easily.
She slowed, eyeing me up and down,realsquinty. I felt like I was in a lineup.
“How old are you?” she asked. I glanced back to Polly and Max before turning my attention back to the short Sherlock Holmes.
“Twenty-four. Why, how old are you?”
She began to walk at a normal pace again, nose in the air. “Almost six. Do you like kids?”
I chuckled. “Did my momma put you up to this?
In response, Ryla gave me a fairly harsh “you’re a moron” expression—one I hadn’t been on the receiving end of since the sixth grade. She followed this up with, “No. I don’t even know your mom.”
Fair point. “Sure, I like kids,” I answered, moving on. “Sometimes I like them more than adults—Hey, there’s my car!” I tried to distract her by making a big show of opening my trunk with a button and yelling, “Abracadabra!”
Ryla was unimpressed. “You just pressed the button,” she said flatly.
I shrugged and glanced at Polly and Max who were now at least hugging.
“You can be our new Giselle!” I jerked my head to Ryla whose green eyes were wide with delight.
“Uh, who?” I asked, putting down the suitcase handles.
“Our Giselle! She’s in Italy so we need someone to watch us even though we’re not babies. Miss Simon made good cookies but won a lot of money and then we had one that was really mean but only for a day and now we have to find a new one.”
I had no idea what she just said or what a Giselle was, but from Polly’s conversation earlier, I had a feeling I knew where she was going with this.
They were in the market for a babysitter.
Which meant Ryla was looking to buy me.
“Well . . .” I searched for a segue when inspiration struck. I lifted the suitcase, but pretended it was too heavy. I tugged on it a few more times, not letting it budge.
“Oof.” I pretended to wipe sweat off my forehead. “Say, did you add weights to this? It’s too heavy!”
Ryla giggled as I tried and failed to lift the suitcase again.
“It’s not heavy!” She laughed as she grabbed the handle with both hands and lifted it straight up in the air, then slammed it back to the ground.
We played this game a few more times, Ryla laughing harder with each of my failed attempts. Sighing, I dramatically wiped my non-sweaty forehead again, then put my hands on my hips. “I think you better help me.”
Ryla went to pick up the suitcase, and I made a big show of grunting and talking under my breath as we both lifted it into the trunk. After both of the suitcases were in the back, I dusted off my palms.
“Well, little miss Ryla. I am so glad you helped me with those heavy suitcases. I don’t think I’d ever have gotten them in there!”
Ryla clapped, jumping up and down and shouted, “Now you have to be our new Giselle!” at the same time as Polly and Max came up behind us.
And judging by her slightly open mouth, Polly definitely heard what Ryla said. Head whipping back and forth between her daughter and me, Polly shouted, “What in the world? Ryla! Did you just ask him what I think you just asked him?”
Nonplused, Ryla merely looked at her momma and shrugged. “What? He said he likes kids more than grown-ups.”
Oh,shit.
