Abandoning the recipes, I drop into a squat and hold her little arms. “Cards aren’t supposed to get wet,” I explain calmly, “But I’m not mad at you.”
Fat tears spill down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Mama,” she wails.
Forgetting all about the recipes, I pull her into a hug. “It’s okay, baby. It’ll be okay.”
“We’re gonna fix it,” Pen says with confidence. “I know just what to do.”
Maisy just sniffles and quakes in my arms. She presses her wet face into my neck, and I plant a kiss on one ear. Whenever she cries, her plump little body heats up as if she’s literally melting down. I hug her against me even tighter.
“I miss Nanna too, Mama,” Maisy confides.
My throat tightens. She’s said this more than once over the last few days, and she’s asked a lot of questions. Some I’m not sure how to answer. At least she’s not asking any now.
“We all do, Maisy Bug,” I rasp.
“We sure do,” Pen echoes, her voice sounding just a little tight too.
Footsteps scrape down the hall so I stand and swipe my eyes before Tyler walks in, but it’s no good.
He sees us and frowns. “Wha..sh...wron?”
The last thing I want to do is upset Tyler too, but he hates it when I coddle him. Even if he can’t come out and say it in precisely those words, he totally knows when I’m doing it.
I glance down at my daughter. “Want to tell him?”
Maisy sniffles again and drags her forearm under her nose. “I w-washed Nanna’s cooking cards.”
Tyler’s frown deepens, and I know he’s trying to process what she means. He takes in Pen at the counter, separating and laying out the recipes. Then he looks back at Maisy.
“Can...’t… wash… pa...per.”
Maisy nods as though this is solemn wisdom.
“Un...lesh… yor… Spun Bo...b,” Tyler says, his slow-growing grin aimed at Maisy. “Wan... go… wash Spun Bo...b?”
Maisy understands her uncle perfectly.Want to go watchSpongeBob?
She darts across the kitchen and grabs Tyler’s hand. “We have to watch inyourroom.”
Tyler’s brows lift. “My… roo...m?”
“TV’s not plugged yet.” Her tone is flat, but I don’t miss the reproach. Who would’ve thought four-year-olds could be reproachful.
Pen swivels her head and nails me withI-told-you-soeyes.
Okay, so I might be dragging my feet on setting up the TV in the living room. We’ve been in the house two nights already, and I was hoping to make it a third before I caved. Maisy watches too much TV. So does Tyler. I’d like to say that wasn’t the case before his accident, but he’s been a lifelongSpongeBobfan.
“Fine. I’ll set it up tonight.”
“And we’ll watchInside Out?”
Pen chokes on her smothered laughter. Maisy knows every line ofInside Out.I probably do too.
“And we’ll watchInside Out,”I concede.
Maisy bounces in her flip-flops. “Hooray!” Then she’s tugging Tyler by the hand. “C’mon, Uncle T, c’mon.”
Maisy is faster, but Tyler follows.
