After brushing out the tangles, I gathered her hair into a pony and then divided the hair into two equal sections. Lifting one, I explained, “You just take a small section from here.” I demonstrated as I spoke. “And you flip it like this before adding it to the inner side like this.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll show you a few more times, and then you can give it a try.”
Sebastian looked on as I weaved sections of hair into a symmetrical pattern. I kept going until he could start to see how the braid resembled a fish’s tail.
“I get where it got its name now,” he said.
I smiled. “Birdie, do you mind if we take a few extra minutes to do this? I’m going to unbraid you and let your dad take a shot.”
She laughed. “He braids worse than he makes pancakes. But okay.”
I reversed the weaving I’d done and ran my fingers through her hair while talking to Sebastian. “Birdie told me you own a restaurant. How do you not make great pancakes?”
His face grew solemn. “My wife was a chef. I ran the business end of the restaurant.”
I frowned. “Oh. I’m sorry.”
He nodded.
“Alright, well, let me scoot over, and you give it a try now.” I made room for Sebastian to sit behind his daughter and then leaned close to watch and give him step-by-step directions. “Separate the pony into two, and take a small section and flip it before you add it to the inside, like I showed you.”
Sebastian took Birdie’s hair and separated it, but that was as far as he got. He held on to the pieces of her hair and chuckled. “I have no clue what the hell you just did.”
Smiling, I reached over and covered his hand with mine so that I could guide his movements and he could get the feel of the motion of weaving the braid. The gesture was innocent enough, but my hands hugging his felt absolutely electrifying. It rattled me so much that I forgot how the hell to make the damn braid myself. “Umm. You put this one over here . . . No wait . . . that’s not right . . . this goes over there.” Honestly, I needed to let go of him if I had any chance of Birdie walking out the door without looking like a rat had nested on top of her head.
Sebastian tried in earnest to continue without me, but he was just lost.
Eventually, he sighed. “Why don’t you just do it, or we might be here all day.”
“Yeah, maybe that’s best.”
As I went to move back to sit behind Birdie, Sebastian and I stood so we could switch places again. We both attempted to pass each other on the same side and wound up banging into each other.
“Sorry,” he said.
“My fault.” I smiled.
I moved to my left, and Sebastian moved to his right, which meant we did the same thing again. This time, his eyes flickered to my lips before we managed to figure out how to step around each other.
Was I imagining that just happened? I didn’t think so.
He cleared his throat after I sat back down behind Birdie. “I’m going to . . . give Marmaduke some water before we head out.”
If what I’d thought just happened had really happened, Birdie seemed oblivious. “See, I told you,” she said. “Worse than pancakes.”
With Sebastian out of the room, I was able to do Birdie’s braid in just a few minutes. She ran to a mirror when I finished. “It’s so pretty. Maybe you can teach me how to do my own. I don’t think Dad’s going to be very good at it.”
“Sure. That might be a better idea.”
Sebastian returned from the kitchen. “Something came up at the restaurant, and I need to make a few calls. Why don’t you two take Marmaduke for his walk, and I’ll join you for the training session when you get back.”
“Okay, Daddy!”
I had no idea why, but I got the distinct feeling that something hadn’t really popped up at work for Sebastian. Though the man had let me back into his life, so I wasn’t going to do anything stupid. I smoothed the wrinkles from my pants. “We’ll be back in about twenty minutes.”
Outside, I took Marmaduke’s leash, and Birdie walked alongside me.
“I didn’t think you were coming back,” she said.
“I’m sorry about that. Something . . . unexpected came up. I didn’t mean to disappoint you when I had to stop coming.”
She shrugged. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re back.”
“So what’s new? How has Marmaduke been the last few weeks?”
Birdie giggled. “He ate the blanket off Dad’s bed, and there were feathers all over the place. Like, a million of them.”
“Oh boy. How did he handle that?”
“He was angry. That night, I heard him telling the lady that he wanted to bring Marmaduke to a farm somewhere.”