Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 182075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 182075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
She waited for him to kiss her lips, but he drew back and took her hand, leading her into the playroom.
“Now, after your lines we can play for a bit, then it will be lunchtime and naptime.”
“Naptime? I don’t need a nap,” she told him.
He shot her a look and it took her a moment to realize why.
“I don’t need a nap, Daddy,” she said.
He gave a nod so she knew she’d understood him. Weird. Each time she called him Daddy it seemed to ease something inside her. She started to feel more relaxed, her shoulders lowering.
Since she’d stopped vomiting all the time, she actually had far more energy. Naps were no longer necessary.
“Yes, you do. Little girls always need a nap or they get cranky and get themselves into trouble.”
To her shock, her bottom lip dropped out on a pout and she tapped her foot, glaring at him. “I am not cranky.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure about that?”
“Daddy! Don’t call me cranky!”
“You’re cute when you’re cranky.” He grinned at her.
Slade also seemed to relax more as she called him that.
Perhaps they both needed this time.
“Now, lines first.” He set her up at the table. “I want you to write fifty times: I shall not talk badly about myself.”
She groaned but sat. “This is such a downer.”
“Then don’t break the rules and you won’t get punished.”
It was easy for him to say. She couldn’t help it, the rules were just so . . . so breakable!
It took her hours and hours to write the lines. All right, it was probably more like fifteen minutes but it felt like hours.
“Done, Daddy! I am done!” She held up the piece of paper in triumph.
He took it from her and checked the lines. “Good girl. All done. But you’re still getting a spanking once you’re up to it.”
Double downer.
“What shall we do now?” she asked.
Her voice was getting softer as she spoke. Putting her thumb in her mouth, she sucked on it nervously as he handed her Gary.
“Does your gargoyle have a name now?” he asked.
“Uh-huh, it’s Gary.”
“Take your thumb out of your mouth when you talk, Little one,” he told her.
“Sorry, it’s Gary,” she told him after she’d slid her thumb out.
“Gary the gargoyle?” He grinned again. “Would Gary like a tea party?”
“We tried before. It didn’t really work,” she said sadly.
“Well, that’s before you had Daddy to help,” he told her.
He drew out all of the chairs and set Gary down in one opposite her. Her toy dog was to her left. She thought she’d call him Larry. Then he perched precariously in the last one. The chairs weren’t tiny, but they weren’t exactly Slade-sized either.
“What shall we have?” he asked. “Tea? Coffee? Maybe a choccy biscuit or a slice of cake?”
He picked up a wooden biscuit that actually looked surprisingly real and pretended to eat it, making her giggle.
“Daddy! You’re supposed to wait for your host to pour you the drink and offer you some food, not just help yourself.” She waggled a finger at him. “Cheeky Daddy.”
“I do apologize. I seem to have forgotten all of my etiquette lessons. Please, ma’am, may I have a cup of tea?”
“You may.” She nodded regally and poured him a cup. “Sugar? Milk?”
“No, just black.”
Indie shuddered. “That really is revolting, Daddy.”
“Well, us Daddies have a reputation to uphold. We like our tea black so it puts hair on our chests.”
“But you don’t have any hair on your chest, Daddy,” she pointed out.
“Ahh, so I don’t.”
“And Dada takes his tea with three sugars and a lot of milk.”
“Well . . . Dada does need sweetening up. Although he probably doesn’t need that much sugar. He’s already got plenty of energy.”
That he did.
“What about some Victoria sponge, Daddy?” she asked, picking up a piece of the wooden cake and setting it onto their pretty plates.
“Why, thank you, Little one.”
Suddenly, Gary fell forward, his face landing right into the cake.
“Oh no, Gary!” she cried, trying to reach over and grab him but he was across the table from her.
Slade picked him up and shook his head. “Oh Gary, you are a messy eater. Don’t you know that you’re not supposed to eat right off the plate?”
“It must be because he’s a gargoyle,” she said, shaking her head. “Hand him over to me, Daddy.”
She took hold of Gary and wiped his face clean. “There you are, all clean. Now, no more eating straight off the plate like that. Bad Gary.”
After their tea party Daddy found some crafting supplies from one of the cupboards and she sat at the same table, creating pictures of the five of them. And Gary, of course.
“Right, I’m going to go make some lunch, Boo,” Slade told her, standing.
“I’m not hungry, Daddy,” she told him.
“It’s still best if you eat regularly,” he said.