The little one is sucking steadily at the thumb in her mouth and gazing up at Effie with big-eyed adoration. But Effie notices me in the doorway and closes the book.
As I walk over, I hear her say, “We can carry on with the story when you come to school. I have to go now.”
She passes the child the book. Effie, making wild promises she can’t fulfil but meaning every word.
“I’ll see you next time,” she says waving. And then she turns away to fetch her things.
“Who were you reading to?” I ask as we make our way to Stormfly. I’m not strictly allowed to question her yet, but she seems happy enough so I risk it.
“That’s Sarah,” Effie replies. “She’s having a trial day. She’s coming to our club when she starts school.”
“In September?” I ask.
Effie climbs into the car. “Yes,” she says. “She’s going to be my friend.”
My heart leaps. A friend! The first person I want to tell is Anders. But that’s not possible. By the time we get home, I’m bursting with news. Luckily, Dana and Max are already waiting. As we’re so late, I throw some fresh pasta in a pan, pour over a ready-mixed sauce and we sit down directly to eat. It means I have to keep everything throttled until finally, finally, the kids finish their ice cream and get down to play.
I start with the most important. “Effie made a friend today.”
Dana gets it. “Whoop, whoop,” she says and breaks out into a chicken dance. Go figure.
Effie’s first friend. We don’t talk about it but we both know that if Max and Effie hadn’t grown up together, they probably wouldn’t be friends. But they did and they are. Max is easy-going and socially acute, much like his mother. He makes friends easily. Effie doesn’t.
It breaks my heart. There is so much children like Effie can give the world, if only the world would allow them to. Instead, their sense of order, justice, and loyalty make them the target of jokes and derision. They are avoided or ignored or regarded as creepy, either because they stare too much or don’t make eye contact at all.
Effie might spend her life being excluded unless, like Rob, she is lucky enough to find a place she finally belongs. An employer like Cerium, willing to make basic concessions like fixed schedules, written instructions, and low-stimulus environments.
Dana interrupts my thoughts. “She’s growing. And I don’t mean physically. She’s unfurling like a dahlia, revealing her innate complexity.”
It’s a lovely image. “She is.” And I’m so privileged to witness it. How can her father not realise how much he is missing?
Then I shake myself. Dana will be leaving soon and there is so much still to cover. “How are things with you?” I ask.
She scratches her nose. “Okay,” she drawls. “Fiona and I had a fight. She’d like a child and she wants me to approach Max’s biological father for sperm, so our child is Max’s half-sibling.”
“And you don’t want to.” It doesn’t surprise me. Max’s father had wanted no involvement from the start. Dana did it all alone. Why would she want to drag him back into her life now?
“Nope.”
I think about asking Mike for something similar and the feeling of repulsion is overwhelming. “I understand why. I wouldn’t do it either.”
“I know, right? But to Fiona, it seems so logical. She thinks it will help Max bond and make our family unit stronger.” She takes a big swig of her drink as if that will make everything better.
“Max is an open soul. He would bond with a new baby, no matter. Look at him and Effie. And plenty of siblings hate each other.” I can’t understand why. I would have loved a sibling.
“Exactly,” she says.
After a moment’s thought, I point out, “That’s not the only way for the new child to be related. If the donor came from your family, the resulting child would be a blood relative to Max. Not a half-sibling but a cousin, maybe.”
“That’s not a bad idea. At least if I suggest it, it would show I’m on board with her concerns. And if I tell her it comes from you, she’ll give it more weight. She’s a fan of yours.”
“Tosh,” I say dismissively. But it feels good to help Dana for once. She’s done so much for me. All those times when I was at the end of my tether, she was always a phone call away, providing ungrudging support and help. Friendship never weighs favours but if it did, the scales would be heavily against me.
“It’s true. I think you underestimate how many fans you have.”
“If I told you about my day at work, you wouldn’t say that.”
“Why? What happened?” Dana’s eyebrows quirk up.
