Page 91 of His Playground

“Cool, what grade are you in?” he says.

“First,” Jazzy tells him.

“Me too. Want me to show you to the classroom? We have a good teacher. She’s super nice.”

“Okay.” Jazzy shrugs and looks up at me.

I want nothing more than to swoop her up and take her right back home. Homeschooling is still a good option. “Go on. We’ll follow you,” I tell her instead.

She doesn’t even think about it. Just spins around and walks side by side with this kid, Jacob.

Can you run background checks on six-year-olds? No fucking idea. But I will be running checks on every parent of every kid in her class. I make a mental note to have my PI get right on that.

After meeting with Jazzy’s teacher and watching her settle in, Antonia and I reluctantly head back to the car.

“What if we just sit here for a little while? In case she needs us?” Antonia suggests.

I lean down and capture her lips in mine. “That’s a great idea.”

The first hour passes and I suggest another one. The following hour was Antonia’s idea, and before we know it, it’s time to pick Jazzy up.

My daughter runs up to me with the biggest smile on her face. “I had the bestest day. I love school!” she squeals.

My heart melts. She’s so happy. She had a great day. I’d been worried sick, but she’s happy and in one piece. That’s all that matters.

“I’m so glad. How about we go get ice cream?” I offer.

“Okay—oh, wait!” She wiggles around in my arms until I set her down. I then watch in horror as my daughter runs up to the same little punk-ass kid from this morning and hugs him. “I forgot to say goodbye and thank you,” she tells him.

“I’m going to end up killing that little fucker one day,” I grumble.

Antonia slaps my arm. “You can’t say that about a kid, Carlo. Jesus. They’re six.”

I shrug. They might be six now, but they’re not always going to be. I’ll be ready, though. No one is getting near my little girl.

“Your face is priceless, Carlo. Relax,” Antonia says. “Besides, we’ll just have to grow some brothers for her. Share the burden a bit.”

I look at my wife. “You want to make babies with me?”

“I’m not opposed to the idea.” She smiles.

“We’ll start tonight.” I grin as Jazzy comes rushing back over to us.