Wrong Number

Wrong Number [30]

4 Years Old

Kylee giggled as her father grabbed her from behind and drags her backward before she could escape further.

"Daddy, no!" she squealed, wiggling in his arms as unending laughter left her lips. The four year old pushed at her father's arms as he scooped her up and wrapped his arms under her knees and shoulders, then proceeded to attack her forehead in kisses. "Ew!"

"This is what you get for forgetting to feed the kiss monster, Snug-Bug!" her father exclaimed, continuing to kiss her forehead and hairline. "You leave for a sleepover last night and don't kiss me? How rude!"

"'m sorry!" Kylee giggles, wrapping her arms around her father's neck and holding on. "Very sorry!"

Her father pulled away to look at her and winked. "I should hope so." He hoisted her up and carried her back toward her playhouse. It was a warm, summer evening in their backyard. Kylee loved how green their grass was, how soft it felt compared to her best friend's, Nia's.

The back door slid open, releasing the family's two pet yorki dogs. In the entry way stood Kylee's mother. Kylee thought she looked very pretty like that, in her jeans and grey blouse, hair in a bun. She was young, and her face held no mean looks and she spoke nothing of mean words.

But Kylee never saw her without that red liquid. She'd once asked her daddy what it was, why she drank it. Was it good?

"It's nothing you need to worry about, Snug-Bug," Daddy told her, a smile splitting on his face, but not reaching his eyes. Kylee could tell it wasn't a real smile. That worried the little girl. "Just know it's a grown-up drink, okay? Don't drink it."

"Okay," she responded, then turned her focus back to her toys. If daddy said not to worry about it, it must not be that bad.

"Kylee," her mother said from the doorway then, sipping her drink and then tipping her chin toward the living room. "Your piano tutor is here. Come inside."

She frowned, looking back at her daddy. He wasn't home all the time, mommy said it was because of work. Daddy had nodded, and also said he was a very important and busy man in his work. They needed him. Kylee had assumed everyone loved her Daddy if they were keeping him away from home so long.

"But, Daddy just got home," the little girl said weakly, shuffling. "Two days ago. Right?"

"That's right, Bug," her father acknowledged, looking toward his wife.

"Can't we play some more? I don't want to play piano right now."

That's the first time Kylee saw her mother clench the glass in her fingers just a little tighter, and stress lines appear around her eyes and mouth. Kylee didn't like it.

"No," she said, shaking her head, not raising her voice. "Come along, Kylee. You and Daddy can play after your lessons."

Kylee scowled, but didn't argue. She didn't want a spanking, so she shuffled toward her mother and glanced back at her father. He stood with his hands in his slack pockets, a small, reassuring smile on his face as he watched Kylee walk toward the house.

Her mother led her inside the air conditioned home and Kylee never saw the look Mommy shot at her father.