June slips into July and things don’t look a whole lot different, do they? Welcome to this week’s edition of Tuesday Tales, the weekly blog that lets you crawl inside my head and that of other select writers for a while.
This week, I’m posting from Buck’s Fizz, my novella. Enjoy!
Lance lifted the child up. She put her little arms around him and kissed his cheek, melting the ice around my heart. She turned toward us and smiled.
“This is my Daddy, I’m Ruby, and that’s Lila. She’s my nanny. Who are you?”
Lance laughed. “Leave it to the kid to break the ice. Lila, Ruby, meet Suzy and the Silvertones, tonight’s entertainment at the Tomcat.”
Ruby grinned and waved while the woman’s perfectly curved eyebrows disappeared under her brown bangs, her eyes open wide, but she didn’t say a thing.
Lance must’ve understood her unspoken question.
“A little going away present from Maureen.” He shook his head, indicating Ruby, still in his arms, whose interest had shifted from us to a butterfly flitting around the flowers planted in the white iron planter next to the garage door. “I’ll explain later. In the meantime, they’ll be staying in the guest wing. You don’t have to wait on them; just show them where everything is, and they can fend for themselves. This is Becky, Elise, Rachel, and Jess.”
Something about the way he said Jess bugged me, as if he really had figured out who I was and was biding his time. If that were the case, I’d better make sure not to be alone with him anytime soon.
“Welcome to Cloverdale Ranch. Mister and Mrs. Collins are in Europe for another week, visiting their daughter and their new grandson.”
Well, that confirmed it. This was my Lance—or rather Sable’s. So should I fess up to the truth or just try to bluff my way through it?
“The staff’s on holidays,” the woman continued, “but I’m sure you’ll be fine. The pool’s around back, and you look like you could use a dip. I’ll show you to your rooms, and then get everybody something cool to drink.”
“Daddy, come see me swim,” Ruby ordered, as only an indulged child can, and slithered down his body, my own heating at the thought of doing the same.
“I can only stay a short time now, pumpkin, but I’ll watch you while Lila shows our guests to their rooms.”
The emphasis on the word guest proved we were hardly that. More likely, he considered us PITA—pains in the ass—and only his daughter’s presence stopped him from saying so. He probably had a separate but equally unflattering category just for me.
That’s it. Stay safe and don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.