Loving Augustine Urban

Four

Thank you so much Puppybhai for the cover! ❤

Four
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I settled down on the couch next to Arizona, wondering what I could do to lift her spirit. Her eyes lingered on me for a brief moment before dropping to the floor.

"Is he your dad?" I asked her softly.

She shook her head, barely looking at me. The little devil in my head sank into its imaginary couch with a breath of relief.

"So, your mommy's at work?" I dug around a bit.

She slowly shook her head again as she stopped fiddling with her bunny's ears.

"I don't have a mommy," she returned in the faintest voice while her big green eyes looked up at me.

"I don't have a mommy," she replied in the faintest voice, her big green eyes looking up at me.

No kidding, Sophia.

My eyelids squeezed shut, and my teeth sunk into my lower lip, realizing I'd asked a question I shouldn't have.

"Sorry."

This was more challenging than I expected. I'd never felt so nervous and awkward in front of a child before. Blame it on the way PuddinPants had threatened to fire me. I shifted my attention to the sleeveless, light blue dress she was wearing with daisies printed on it.

"You have a very nice dress!" I said.

And for the first time, Arizona smiled up at me. "It's my new favorite. I love daisies."

"Haa!" I gasped softly, my eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree. "You do? I do too?!" I lied.

I didn't really hate them. I just wasn't the kind who was crazy for them. I preferred trees more, but I had to make common grounds to bond with Arizona.

After showering praises on her dress for five minutes, and asking where she got it and how great it looked on her, we were best friends. Our relationship sped ahead like a breeze.

"Let's see how many daisies you have here," I suggested and pulling on the side of her dress, we slowly began to count them together one by one. She could count pretty well.

"Eighteen. Nineteen. . ."

Occasionally, I gently poked her on the side and she'd laugh at how it tickled her. But then I remembered PuddinPants warning me about the pacemaker in her tummy, so I stopped. Arizona enthusiastically shared one story after another – tales of daisies, her beloved dresses, and the adventures of finding them. No doubt there that we belonged in the same squad. Storytellers.

Twenty minutes later, our shoes were kicked aside as we sat cross-legged on the couch, engrossed in Arizona's lively stories. From the upper floor, the so-called Romeo descended.

Radha on the dance floor
Radha likes to party
Radha likes to move that desi Radha body

He came down bobbing his head to the song, a fourteen-year-old with beachy curls matching my height of 5'7". Arizona and I watched him dance down the steps to his own earnest singing. He had a sunny aura about him and his brown eyes (unlike the green of his brother's) twinkled, seemingly reflecting the radiance of his personality.

"Well hello, Miss Decent!!" he called cheerfully with a bright smile when he saw me.

"So, it's you. MisterPuddinPants."

"In this house, you can call me 'King,'" he declared grandly and confidently, approaching us. "But that's only... when my brother isn't home." He shrugged and leapt onto a single couch. "Continue what you were doing. My job today is to assess your performance and see if you are eligible to further continue with this work as the Royal Babysitter cum Royal tutor to our highness, Princess Arizona de la chop chop Daisyqueen." He winked at Arizona with a mischievous smile.