I hustled after them as the kids howled in protest and the librarians glared at us.
Once outside, Trina waited until I caught up to them. She took a deep breath but didn’t say anything.
Her eyes looked shiny. Was she trying not to cry? Where was Alex when I needed him? Weepy chicks were his specialty.
“So,” she said, taking a deep breath. She raised her wrist to her nose and sniffed.
This chick was all kinds of crazy.
“We need to discuss appropriate behavior.” Trina glared at Gilly, who ignored her, humming loudly and hopping across a faded hopscotch on the sidewalk.
“It’s not nice to make fun of other people,” Trina continued. “Especially in a public setting.”
Gilly stopped hopscotching and eyed Trina warily. “The library is public?”
Trina glanced at me like she wanted my help. But with what?
“Yes.” Trina sighed, looking at me with annoyance. “Anywhere outside of your house is public.”
Gilly started hopping again. “At least I kept my clothes on.”
Max started hopping next to Gilly. “I want to go back inside and get some books.”
Trina glanced at me, but I still couldn’t figure out what she wanted me to do. I’d have to wing it.
“So we have snacks in the car, right?” I shot her my best grin, but she just tugged at her hair in frustration. I usually didn’t like short hair on girls, but it wasn’t terrible on Trina. She reminded me of an anime character, especially with her big eyes. I looked away. I needed to get a grip.
She huffed an exasperated sigh. “We’ve got apple slices and crackers. Let’s eat, then we’ll go back inside and get books.”
Once the kids were settled under a tree with food, and we sat on a bench nearby, I decided to make her laugh, hoping to relieve some of her embarrassment from the puppet show.
“Someday Gilly will have MPS,” I whispered, “then she won’t be making fun of it.”
She didn’t laugh or even crack a smile.
“Right?” I forced a laugh, but she stared at me like I was a giant dog turd.
God. If she couldn’t laugh at herself, or at least the kids, she’d never make it as a nanny. Besides, she should be used to Gilly’s special brand of insanity.
“Come on, Trina. You’ve gotta admit that whole puppet disaster was funny.”
She crossed her arms, shifting her chest up and out. I made myself look at her face, but then I got distracted by her eyelashes again, and those incredible eyes.
“Maybe if she’d made fun of you, you’d understand.” Trina sniffed her wrist again. What the hell?
I tugged at the shark tooth hanging from a cord around my neck. It was supposed to be my good luck charm, but it sure wasn’t working today.
“They did make fun of me,” I said. “Gilly called me a playboy. My Elmo self got sexually assaulted by a punk Miss Piggy.” I waited for her laugh, but it didn’t come.
She blinked at me, those long eyelashes fluttering.
“Anyway.” I tilted my head toward the kids, who squirted each other with the straws from their juice boxes. “What’s next after the library?”
And then an amazing thing happened. Trina actually smiled. Just a tiny bit. But still.
“You didn’t even open your binder, did you?”
I shrugged, returning her grin, hoping hers wouldn’t fade too fast. “Nah. But I will. Tonight. I promise I’ll read the whole thing.”
Her laugh surprised me. It was deep and…sort of sexy.
“You will not.” She looked different when she smiled. Almost like a whole other person. “You’ll go out with…whoever…tonight, and sleep all day tomorrow, and on Friday you’ll show up completely clueless about the plan.”
I put a hand on my heart. “That hurts, Clemons. I cannot wait to read that binder. It’s right next to my bed.”
She laughed again and kicked the ground with her sandal. That must be her nervous tell. I’d have to remember that.
The rest of the day didn’t completely suck. After we left the library, Trina dragged us on an architectural tour of the neighborhood, talking about mullioned windows and Tudor something or other.
The poor kids were bored out of their minds, so I spiced things up by creating my own history, telling the kids about the ghosts that haunted each of the houses. Gilly ate it up, screaming and running around, saying she could see the ghosts in the windows. Max stayed quiet, but he carried a rubber T. rex in each hand, just in case.
Eventually Trina gave up on her lecture, telling us we had no appreciation for the history of our city, blah, blah, blah.
It was a good thing Mrs. G. had hired me. If she hadn’t, this summer would be an epic fail for the kids.