Free Anna Meets Her Match by Arlene James

entertaining herself at his expense. Yet, there sat Gilli in safety gear that perfectly matched her skates, beaming and chattering like the happiest of little girls. He had to admit that, whatever Anna Miranda’s intentions, she had made his little girl very happy today.
    It stung that he hadn’t been the one to do that for his daughter. It even stung a bit than Anna Miranda had refused to ride up to the house with him, but he pushed that aside, determined to concentrate on the good she had done for Gilli. And him. His daughter obviously could respond to instruction if properly given.
    He brought the sedan to a halt behind Anna Miranda’s battered coupe, noting that she’d pasted a bumper sticker that said “Imagine Art” over a scratch on the trunk lid and covered a hole in her taillight with red plastic tape. He wondered if she couldn’t afford better. The idea surprised him, for the Burdetts, while not in the same league as the Chatams, were known to be well-off.
    After climbing out of the car, he went for Gilli. She reached up, and because she was in her stocking feet, he pulled her into his arms and carried her toward the steps. It occurred to him that he hadn’t actually held her in a long time, and he was surprised by how much she had grown, how much she had changed. Her little muscles felt strong and lean. She wasn’t a baby anymore, and the realization clutched at his heart.
    “Want to see my balaringa?” she asked hopefully.
    “I think you mean ballerina, yes?”
    Gilli nodded eagerly. “Her dress is so pretty. It sparkles, too. Wanna see?”
    “Okay. Where is it?”
    “Auntie ’Patia gots it, and she got one, too, but it is the house on it, and no sparkles.” She slashed a hand downward, emphasizing the sad lack of sparkles.
    “Ah.”
    He had no idea what she was talking about, not even when she said, “Anna did it.”
    “Is that so?”
    Gilli nodded enthusiastically. Reeves glanced down the drive. Anna Miranda was finally drawing near, huffing and puffing with the effort. He felt Gilli’s arm slip around his neck, and a love so strong and poignant seized him that it constricted his throat. He looked at her and saw the undiluted pride and joy in her eyes. It broke open something inside his chest, something cold and hard that he hadn’t even known existed. It hurt, ached, but he felt an odd sense of relief, too, as if a boil had been lanced.
    Anna Miranda drew up at last, leaning against the rear fender of his car. Reeves hefted Gilli a little higher against his chest and asked her, “Have you thanked Anna Miranda for your new things and teaching you to skate?”
    Gilli leaned toward Anna Miranda and shouted, “Thank you!” Apparently in her world volume added weight to gratitude.
    Before Reeves could scold her, Anna Miranda laughed and shouted back. “You’re welcome!”
    Gilli giggled behind her hands. For several seconds he could do nothing but revel in his daughter’s sweet laughter, glad that he hadn’t prevented it with his scolding. Finally, he turned and carried her up the steps.
    “Go tell the aunties how well you’re skating now,” Reeves instructed, opening the front door and setting her on her feet in the foyer. “I’ll bring your skates in after I speak with Anna Miranda.”
    Gilli waved at Anna Miranda and ran down the hallway, yelling, “I can skate! For real! I can skate!”
    Reeves pulled the door closed and turned to address Anna Miranda. He didn’t quite know how to behave with her. They’d been at loggerheads for so long, despite the years without contact. Those few minutes in the coffee shop were his only frame of reference for dealing with her on a normal basis. She lifted her helmet off her head, holding it against her hip with one hand while ruffling her hair with the other. She looked tired and mussed and perfectly adorable.
    Adorable?
    Shaking his head, Reeves descended the shallow steps and simply said, “Thanks.”
    Her delicate brows rose, her light,