Free Star Promise by G. J. Walker-Smith

bundled it up and stuffed it into her backpack. “How about we walk some of the way and then pick up a cab?” I suggested.
    Bridget wasn’t happy, but kept walking. The heavy pedestrian traffic made it slow going. I asked her what she’d been up to and she gave me the complete rundown of her time at the park, including a longwinded story about a squirrel that yelled at her. The lipstick saga never rated a mention, so it was left to me to bring it up.
    “You promised me you wouldn’t draw on faces any more,” I reminded her.
    “It was just my face,” she explained. “Nobody else’s.”
    To Bridget, it was no big deal. I held her hand a little bit firmer as I prepared to inform her otherwise. “It was a really naughty thing to do,” I chided.
    “I know,” she mumbled. “That’s what Ry said.”
    I wasn’t particularly upset with her. I was frustrated because I had no idea how to deal with her, and it was happening more and more often. My way wasn’t working, so I changed tack and went the La La route.
    “Crooked girls can’t fly straight,” I said casually. “You might want to think about that before you do something naughty again.”
    Even without looking, I could feel the stare of her bright blue eyes. “Am I crooked, Daddy?”
    “You tell me, Bridge,” I replied.
    We walked in silence for a minute or two, but didn’t cover much ground. Bridget’s walk slowed to a crawl while she deliberated. She never did answer me. The only time she spoke was when she asked me to pick her up. Her arms linked around my neck, she buried her head in the curve of my shoulder and promptly fell asleep.

11. BURNED AT THE STAKE
Charli
    Adam’s plan of winging it was only good for one day. Neither of us was in a position to take any more time off, and we’d come up with no solution to our childcare problem over the weekend.
    On Monday morning we resorted to playing scissors, paper, rock to decide who’d have the unenviable task of calling their boss.
    I won because I always win.
    “I’m sure you cheat,” grumbled Adam, reaching for his phone.
    “I’ll call your dad if you want me to,” I bravely offered.
    “Brilliant idea, Charlotte,” he mocked. “That’s bound to end well.”
    Bridget wedged herself in between us. “I’ll call Papy,” she offered brightly. “He likes me.”
    Adam must’ve really been fed up. He tapped his father’s name on the screen and handed the phone to Bridget. Despite the fact that it was on speaker, she held it to her ear. “Hello, Papy,” she greeted. “It’s Bridget Décarie.”
    Jean-Luc’s chuckle filtered through the kitchen. “What can I do for you today, young lady?”
    Bridget’s hand moved to her hip as she paced the kitchen, holding the phone to her ear. “I want you to look after me today,” she demanded. “My mum and dad have to go to work.”
    A frantic silent conversation took place between Adam and I in the form of frowns and raised eyebrows. The king had never spent the day with her before, and it was unimaginable to think he’d start now. I held my breath, waiting for the crotchety tyrant to shoot Bridget down in flames.
    “I would love to spend the day with you,” he replied, shocking me half to death.
    “Can you please come and get me now?” she asked.
    “Yes, of course,” replied Jean-Luc. “Let your mother know I’ll be there shortly.”
    Bridget spun around to look at me. I confirmed that I’d heard his instruction with an awkward smile. The deal was complete, and she’d carried it out with the arrogance and panache of a true Décarie.
    ***
    I wasn’t entirely convinced that Jean-Luc would show up. Adam didn’t hang around to find out. He was shrugging on his jacket before Bridget ended the call. “See you later,” he said, kissing me as he passed.
    I grabbed his arm to slow him down. “Wait. What do I do if he doesn’t show up?”
    He kissed me again. “He’ll be here.”
    I grabbed him again. “And what do I do if he does