"The Marines? Wow, now that's impressive, and definitely a good excuse for the language," Leah laughed lightly. "It's alright, by the way. Her uncle's just as bad. I know she'll learn the words eventually — when she gets older — but I guess it's just a mom thing, wanting to keep her young and innocent as long as possible." A pause, before adding, "That, and I really don't look forward to her teachers calling me and telling me my daughter called another kid a bad name." When she realized she was babbling, Leah gave a sheepish laugh.
She listened as Charlie explained her upbringing, how it revolved around guns and hunting. "No. No, it's good you have those skills. Really. I kind of envy them." She bit her lip as the scene of her mugging replayed again in her head. "All the better that people can't take advantage of you. You and your brother sound really great, and I for one am thankful to have people like you looking out for others."
Nodding, Leah tried to look as though she knew exactly what Charlie was talking about with how security was set up, but most of it was lost on her. Beyond the stories Brandon told, Leah didn't know much about the world of crime-fighting. Snipers were supposed to be excellent marksmen, but it didn't stop her from worrying. If something happened, there was a good possibility an innocent person could get killed. Leah hugged Marigold a little closer to her.
Lugging a four-year-old around was definitely a workout, that was for sure, so she was grateful when Charlie eased into a slower pace. "Yeah. He mainly patrols neighborhoods in Queens, sometimes Long Island. Tonight, they've got him patroling Times Square with a detective whose name I've forgotten." She shook her head and shrugged. "His name's Brandon, my brother. Have you met him? Goes by Officer Stone."