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“I’ll believe it when I see it, Man of Blarney,” she said.
CHAPTER 19
“REMEMBER, NOW,” I SAID, kissing Mary Catherine one last time in the elevator as I stepped out onto my floor. “The town. The color red. The finest French restaurant in the city, then the Plaza. We’re going to do this.”
Mary Catherine laughed as the elevator door closed.
A strange sound greeted me as I tiptoed through the darkened apartment and opened the door of my bedroom. Someone was crying. What the heck? What could be wrong now?
It was actually two someones. I threw on the light to find Chrissy and Shawna camped out on my bedroom chair in their pajamas, cheeks tear-soaked, whimpering.
“What is it, girls?” I said, rushing over to them. “What happened? Are you hurt?”
“No, Daddy. It’s not that,” Shawna said, sobbing. “It’s just so sad.”
“What’s so sad? Why are you crying?”
“We miss them, Daddy. We miss them so much,” Chrissy said.
“Who?”
“Flopsy, Mopsy, and Desiree,” said Shawna.
“And Homer,” Chrissy said. ?
?Poor, poor Homer. He must be so lonely.”
I shook my head. Of course. If it wasn’t one thing it was another. My nutty kids were missing Mr. Cody’s farm animals from our California safe house.
“It’s OK, girls,” I said, sitting down between them. “I’m sure the animals are fine. Maybe tomorrow we can e-mail Mr. Cody and have him send us a picture.”
“Or a FaceTime?” Shawna said, wiping at her brightening eyes.
“Hooray, yes! Can we FaceTime with Homer, Daddy? Can we? Can we?” Chrissy said.
FaceTime with a chicken? I thought, rubbing my temples. Will this day never end?
“We’ll see. Now, please, back to bed. You have school in the morning.”
“No, Daddy. We can’t sleep in our beds,” Chrissy said. “The big girls sent us away when we started crying.”
“And the door is so creaky,” Shawna said. “They’ll just be mad again if we wake them up.”
“Where are you going to sleep, then?”
They sat there blinking up at me with their sugar-frosted-cupcake eyes.
“No,” I said, knowing that look. “Don’t worry about the creaky door. Go back to your room and your own beds.”
But it was no use. They kept staring, kept twinkling.
I let out a breath.
“Fine,” I growled. “Just this once because you’re so sad, I guess. Go get your pillows.”
“We already brought them,” Shawna said, pulling them out from the other side of the bed.
“Of course you did. How convenient. Anyway, now, here’s the rules. No nugglance or poking or combing Daddy’s hair, and most of all, no giggling and tickling. If you wish to sleep here, we will sleep. Do I make myself clear?”
