Page 124 of Denial
“I love how you are with her.”
I shrug. “She’s not hard to take care of.”
“She isn’t. But you’re also kind and patient with her every single step of the way. Means a lot to me.”
I let an easy smile come to my face as I think about my special bond with Nellie, and how I wish I could have had someone like that when I was a little girl. My heart swells with pride as I say, “She means a lot to me too.”
The sun peeksout from behind a passing gray cloud, bathing me in warmth. The sky looks like showers are on the way, but we have enough time to run around before they arrive. The forecast says they won’t appear until midafternoon, and it’s only twelve o’clock.
“Should we race?” I ask Nellie as I help her adjust her pink helmet strap.
“Oh yeah,” she twists her fingers around the handle as if revving up a motorbike.
“I might win,” I taunt, picking up my old banana seat bike and straddling it.
“On that old thing? No way, Miss Alice.”
She’s probably not wrong, but I give it my best shot. I count us down from five and shout “Go!” letting her get a few rotations in before I take off.
She squeals down the sidewalk, and I honk my horn behind her, letting her know I’m close. The sound of her huffing and puffing reaches my ears as she puts in maximum effort. I could probably overtake her, but I’m not going to bully an eight-year-old for my own ego.
My blood sugar has been high today with no sign of coming down, so a bike ride to the park feels like the perfect time to get in some exercise and see if I can get my numbers to budge.
“I’m going to win!” she calls, standing on her pedals, legs pumping to go faster. Visions of her tumbling headlong over the handlebars have my pulse picking up.
“Be careful!” I warn her. Sutton and I may be in a better place, but he’s still an overprotective father, and his daughter getting road rash on her face might actually get me fired.
The back tire of her bike spits out pebbles in my direction. We follow the sidewalk, dodging cracks and weeds growing between the concrete. The park slowly comes into view. Just one final hill to conquer and we’re there. I keep a moderate pace, not wanting to spike my blood sugar, and let Nellie cross the finish line first.
She hops off, throwing her helmet to the ground, and gives her fists a victorious pump.
“I beat you, Miss Alice!”
I skid to a stop beside her half a minute later. “You sure did, kiddo. I think maybe we can stop for an ice cream treat on the way back.”
She turns, surveying the neighborhood and the empty park. “Do you think the ice cream truck will come this way today?”
“Probably not today, but we can bike to the shop.” I let her down gently.
What she doesn’t know is the ice cream truck doesn’t stop for anybody. The way that man has been racing through the neighborhood, playing his clownish tune while being chased by the kids without stopping, has me wondering if the truck is a front for some illegal operation.
That, or he’sreallybad at his job.
“Let’s play hide-and-seek. I’ll hide first.” Nellie’s assertive declaration makes me smile. She has a way with getting people wrapped around her finger.
“How high should I count?” I walk to the large Maple tree that Nellie has dubbed the counting tree.
“Fifty, no, one hundred! One hundred and fifty!”
I laugh. “This park isn’t that big, Nellie-Jo. I’ll stick with fifty.”
“Fine. But no peeking!”
“I wouldn’t dare.” I cover my eyes and rest my forehead against the rough bark.
Nellie’s footfalls over the woodchips grow fainter the farther away she goes. That, or she already climbed atop a structure. I hear a car pass by on the road, and the quiet bark of a dog in the distance. By the time I reach fifty, my face is warm from being covered by my arms.
“Ready or not, here I come!”
