Free Eight Days a Week by Amber L. Johnson Page B

nodding my head at everything, and I don’t think I even realized that I said yes.”
    “To what?”
    She sighed and shrugged, her eyes fixed on mine. “To a date with Jimmy on Friday night.”

Chapter 9
    Sun King

    Jimmy.
    Chop.
    Jimmy.
    Chop.
    JimmyJimmyJimmyJimmyJimmy.
    Chopchopchopchopchopchop.  
    “You killed the cucumber,” Bree said softly from the table.
    I looked up. “Huh?” Then I glanced at the cutting board. “No salad tonight, then.”
    “We don’t like salad anyway.” She had a book open on the table and looked bored with life. “Are you mad?”
    “No.”  
    “It’s not nice to lie.”
    I wiped my hands on my pants and walked over to the table to sit down next to her. “Don’t you get tired of being so grown-up, Bree?”
    “No.”
    “You should go play. Bring a friend over. Have someone spend the night.”
    “Why?” Her face was scrunched up in confusion.
    “Because it’sfun.”
    She shrugged and looked down.
    “Let’s do something fun on Friday night. What do you say?”
    Bree narrowed her eyes. “Why are you here with us Friday night?”
    I decided honesty was the best way to go. “Because Gwen has a date.”
    “What?” Her mouth drooped into a frown, and her eyebrows pulled together. “But . . . you like her. Right?”
    So much for keeping things from the kids.  
    “She’s nice,” I said, hoping she’d take it at face value.
    “But if she likes another man, will you have to leave?”
    Brady shuffled into the kitchen. He looked between me and Bree, his eyes wide.
    “Relax. I’m not going anywhere.”
    Brady walked over, clung to my leg, and sniffed. “Stay, Dee.”
    I pulled him into my lap and lowered my face to look into his eyes. “Promise. I’m not going anywhere , you hear me?” I wanted to tell him I wouldn’t leave him alone under the bathroom sink or forget him on the playground. I wanted to assure Bree I would be there when she got home. I would pick her up from ballet class.
    But more importantly, I wanted them to do things they wanted to do.
    “So what do you think about Friday?” I asked. “I can invite my friend Ian over. We can make pizzas? Watch movies? Your choice.”
    “Can you get Gwen to stay home wid us?”
    I shook my head. “She made a promise to a guy named Jimmy, and she has to keep her promise.”
    Bree slammed her book shut. “Then we’ll get her to stay home.”
       
    The kids and I were trying to play a new game in the living room. They’d insisted on Beatles Rock Band, so I went with it, even though I was beyond terrible at it. I kept missing my notes on the guitar—even though I was awesome at it in real life—and Brady could barely keep up on the drums, but Bree was singing her little heart out. She was a lot better than I’d expected. When the song came to an end, I gave her a nudge with my elbow.
    “Look how good you were, Bree. You’re kicking my ass.”
    She stepped on my foot and pointed at Brady. “No swears, Dee. We don’t say ass .”
    “Sorry. I’ll work on that.”
    “You sounded great,” Gwen called, and we all turned to look at her, standing in the doorway from out of nowhere. I hadn’t even realized how late it was. She’d been pulling overtime at work again.
    “Come on, Lennon,” I said. “We have a bass for you.” I turned back around and started scrolling through the song list. Gwen picked up the instrument and looked it over once before pulling the strap around her neck.
    “I have no idea what to do,” she said.
    “Good. Then we’re all on the same playing field. Except Bree, of course.”
    “Bryan loved The Beatles,” Gwen whispered into my ear, and I nodded because I already knew.
    “I debated on getting this or one of the newer versions. But Bree said they wanted it.” I turned to quirk a brow at the little girl. “I figured some good old wholesome tunes would be good, since she’s been booty-shaking in her room to some unseemly songs.” I leaned into Gwen’s ear and