Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 141425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
“Not much,” Luna guesses.
“Exactly. Because there’s so little friction, pucks can glide at speeds over a hundred miles per hour.”
“That’s really fast,” Parker says.
Luna’s jaw drops as she spins toward her brother. “We have to tell Dad later—that’s one of the coolest things I’ve ever heard!”
“Sabrina, can we look up more hockey facts?” Parker asks thoughtfully. “Because when Dad talks about it, it’s sooo boring. But when you do, it’s actually interesting.”
That makes me happier than it should. And for all the wrong reasons. I shouldn’t be pleased that they enjoy my approach more. But I’m still a little pissed at their dad—and mad at myself too—so I’ll take the win.
We move through the rest of the Ice and Cold Exhibit, and I point to a display about ice before asking, “So, why is ice slippery?”
Parker and Luna exchange a glance before Parker guesses: “Uh…because it’s wet?”
“Kind of! It’s because pressure from your foot or skate creates a thin layer of water, which reduces friction.”
Luna gasps. “Wait. Suddenly, my dad’s job is so much more interesting.”
I laugh. “Well, I’d hope you’re interested in ice—you’re a figure skater.”
She squares her shoulders, clearly taking that as a compliment. “I know,” she says, then shoots me a conspiratorial grin. “But what we do is way cooler than a bunch of guys whacking pucks.”
Parker nods. “She’s not wrong.”
I shouldn’t be pleased. I really shouldn’t. But I kind of am.
And I’m especially pleased because, once again, I am Super Nanny. Exactly who I was hired to be.
At home, Luna and Parker fly down the stairs toward my apartment.
“I want to hold her first!” Luna declares.
“I do!” Parker insists.
“She likes me better,” Luna retorts, reaching the door ahead of her brother.
“Not true,” Parker argues.
“You know what she loves most?” I counter, tapping the code into the keypad.
Both of them pause. “What?”
“Food,” I say with a grin. “How about we feed little Miss Drama?”
Right on cue, I lean toward the door, cupping my ear. Drama’s high-pitched wail filters through—a sound somewhere between a whistle and a demand for immediate attention.
They both chuckle. “She really wants to see us,” Parker says.
“Of course she does,” I say.
I push open the door, and they instantly scoop her up. Together. It’s the sweetest brother-sister moment I’ve seen, with Luna cradling the kitten’s head and torso and Parker holding her bottom half.
Drama makes a show of resisting before melting into the attention, stretching luxuriously in their arms.
Luna gasps as she notices the brand-new cat tower, tunnels, and toys scattered across the living room. She hands the kitten to her brother and races to check out all the gear. “Oh my god! You got so much stuff for her!”
My heart goes a little squishy as last night flashes through my mind—Tyler hauling everything in from Rowan’s car, setting it up without a word.
“I got some gifts for the kitten,” he said. “I know she’s only a foster, but you can use them for the next one…and the next one…and the next one.”
And just like that, I feel like a jerk for being mad at him at all.
Fine, I didn’t let on that I was mad at him, but still, I feel bad for my pissy thoughts. So, he forgot about the Christmas holiday. That’s not the worst thing in the world.
We feed Drama, and when she’s done eating, I scoop her up and announce, “Okay—who’s ready for a kitten play session?”
We take out every toy—feathers, balls, and the laser pointer—and Drama zooms around like a tiny rocket. Luna dangles a wand toy, Parker sets up a triangular cardboard scratcher, and I lounge back, watching them fall further in love with this little cat.
Then, the garage door rattles. A minute later, footsteps echo as Tyler must head upstairs. Then, the footsteps grow louder as he comes back downstairs. We all snicker, co-conspirators in hiding out in KittenLandia.
A knock sounds at my door.
I tense but remind myself just to be a good nanny. And I am—clearly.
Luna hops up and swings it open. “Daddy, we’re playing with the kitten, so you’ll have to come back later.”
Tyler blinks. “Okay…I just wanted to check if you needed—”
“We don’t need anything,” Luna interrupts, waving a hand. “You can go out, or do your weights, or…do your things. We’re playing with Drama.”
Tyler hesitates, looking half amused, half uncertain. “Oh. Well…do you want to play a board game later? Lego?”
Parker barely looks up from where Drama is batting a feather toy across the floor. “No, but thanks.”
Tyler glances at me, like maybe he expected a different answer. Then he nods. “Okay. Have fun.”
For a second, I almost call after him to invite him to join us in the kitten love fest. But I don’t want to get too cozy as a family. Best if I focus on my role here—taking care of his kids. I sit back, watching the kids play with Drama.