“I can be a baker. I’ve been thinking about this all day.”
Abby grabs a wooden spoon and gets to work.
The three of us make monkey bread in the kitchen, listening to Dolly Parton and Adele while Abby tells us about gymnastics and her friend, and Gabriella’s dad’s funny jokes, and how awesome the balance beam is.
When the bread goes in the oven, Abby stares at the clock. “I don’t know how to wait. It’s going to be so long.” Then she spins around and points at Katie. “Can I paint your nails?”
“Do you have fuchsia? That’s my favorite color.”
“I do,” Abby declares, then runs to her room.
For the next fifteen minutes, Abby gives Katie a manicure, and I count down the weeks till the end of the season.
***
That night, I read Abby four stories, including one about a girl who gets a pony.
“That girl is so smart. She convinced her daddy to give her a pony,” Abby says, snuggling under the covers.
“Gee, Abby. Are you trying to tell me something?”
She flashes ayupgrin. “But I’d also take a hedgie, a cat, or a dog.”
“Named Dolly,” I say, repeating her plans as I drop a kiss onto her forehead.
“Or Katie. I like Katie.” She yawns, so big it’s the size of a pie.
“I’ll let her know you plan to name a pet after her.”
A line creases her forehead. “Is she your new girlfriend? She seems like it.”
Well, kids know everything, don’t they? “Why do you ask?”
Another yawn takes over. “I could tell you liked her and she liked you.”
I ruffle her hair, glad to tell her the truth about this. “I think she will be soon,” I whisper, then I press my finger to my lips. “Secret.”
“I’ll keep it a secret. Do you think she liked me?”
“I’m sure she loved you.”
“Okay,” she says as her eyes flutter closed.
I leave her room, shut the door, and head downstairs to finishcleaning up. But before I tackle the kitchen, I grab my phone and sink onto the couch, clicking open my text app.
Harlan:The verdict is in. She loves you.
Katie:The feeling is mutual. She’s fabulous.
Harlan:Well, that was easy.
Katie:Some things are. You’re raising a good kid.
I return to Katie’s words from the picnic lunch about whether she’d want kids.With the right man. The right relationship.I’d love to talk to her more about that, but via text message hardly seems appropriate. End of season feels like a better time. But I can at least say this…
Harlan:You were great with her.
Katie:Yeah?
