Page 91 of The Path to Loving Him
“We’ll try again tomorrow, and I’ll remind you.”
“Okay.”
“Come on, let’s get you back up to bed.”
I start heading to the stairs as Mac pulls her head away from my shoulder and says, “What is that cookie girl doing here?”
I chuckle because cookie girl is quite the name. “Remember, her name is Gabby, and she lives in the apartment above the garage. Her shower isn’t working, so she showers here at night.”
“Every night?”
“Yes,” I say as I look over at Gabby, who waves at Mac.
“How come I never see or hear her?”
“I’m pretty sneaky,” Gabby says. “And your uncle said I’m in big trouble if I wake you up.”
“What kind of trouble?” Mac asks. “Like time-out?”
“Yeah, like time-out,” I say, loving how innocent her mind is.
“Time-out is not fun.”
“Not even a little,” Gabby says. “That’s why I’m sneaky.”
“I’m sneaky too. I can show you.” Mac tries to wiggle out of my arms, but I hold her tight.
“You can show her another time. Right now, you need to get back to bed or else you’re going to be cranky. Do the Chewys like a cranky Mac?”
Mac dramatically shakes her head. “No, they don’t.”
“So we better get you some sleep, then. Say good night to Gabby.”
“Good night, love you, see you in the morning, sweet dreams.”
Gabby chuckles. “Good night, Mac.”
I spend the next few minutes getting Mac back into bed, singingTwinkle, Twinkle, Little Starwith her, and then tucking her in just the way she likes it. Once I’m done, I turn off the hall light and head back down the stairs only to find the living room straightened up and the clothes put back in the laundry basket. I look around for Gabby, but she’s nowhere to be found. When I hear the shower, I realize she’s in the bathroom.
Jesus, she works quick.
I carry the laundry over to the laundry room, which is across from the bathroom. I can smell her soap coming from under the door and I mentally tell myself to ignore it.
Sure, it smells like heaven, but that doesn’t mean I need to blast the bathroom door down and bend her over.
We’ve turned a new leaf.
We’re friends.
We’re cordial.
We’re not animalistic barbarians seeking carnal pleasure whenever we so choose.
I focus on the laundry, starting it just as I hear Gabby turn off the shower. Feeling awkward, I take in the kitchen and how I already cleaned it up, but maybe I should wipe those counters down again.
I take out the Earth-friendly cleaner Cassidy was always adamant about using and spray down the counters, then I wipethem up with a microfiber towel. I do the same with the table, and once I’m done with that . . . I wipe down the chairs.
I move from the chairs to the fridge, and once that’s done, I’m about to go to the stove when the bathroom door finally opens, and Gabby pops out.
