I wasn’t finding the humor in this. “I don’t like the idea of some kid pushing her around.”
Katty folded her arms across her chest. “Declan’s my friend.”
My jaw hung loose. “Wait. The kid who steals your markers is your friend?”
“Yep. All the kids are my friends,” she explained slowly, like I was the idiot here. And I guessed I was. I was about four years behind on the comings and goings of this little girl, but I’d catch up. I was determined.
Mazzy snorted. “To be fair, the markers are for everyone to share, and Katty has a tendency to hoard them.”
Katty hmphed. “Only the pretty colors, Mama.”
“Which colors are pretty?” I asked, utterly fascinated by this creature. Had anyone ever been more interesting? She had a whole life and opinions, and I wanted to know all of it.
Katty’s bright eyes lit, and she proceeded to list every color in existence. Sometimes twice. Purple was mentioned three times, and I took that to mean she especially loved it. Noting that in my head for next time, when maybe I would be allowed to bring her a present.
By the time she’d trailed off, slightly out of breath from all the talking she’d done, my old bones were getting tired of crouching, so I asked if she’d sit with me on the bench behind us. She took me up on the offer, pulling her mom along with us. Katty climbed up between Mazzy and me. Her little legs stuck out straight and were kicking as her shoulders rose around her ears.
“This is a fun day,” she declared, easy as could be.
I had to take a breath and will myself not to cry again. She’d think I was a nut if I suddenly started to sob, but it was nearly impossible at this point. She was just so cute and cool and…well, everything.
“Right? The most fun,” I finally agreed.
She kicked her feet a few more times and pressed her hands together between her knees. My chest grew so tight, it was hard to sit still. The urge to run laps around this playground and scream out a battle cry hit me hard, but I kept myself under control.
“I live in a garage.” She blinked up at me. “Where do you live?”
“A garage, huh? That’s cool.” I was sure there was more to it than that. “I just live in a regular ol’ house,” I said.
Mazzy leaned around her to clear things up. “We live in an apartment over my aunt’s garage. We don’t have cars as roommates.”
I swiped my forehead. “Phew. I was totally picturing you two sleeping in a back seat and eating dinner out of a trunk.”
Katty snickered. “We eat dinner at a table. I have my own bed too. It’s brown.”
“Is it made of wood?” I asked.
She turned to Mazzy. “Is my bed made of wood?”
“It is,” she replied. “Well…it’s from IKEA, so I’m not sure if it’s real wood or wood adjacent.”
Katty turned back to me. “It’s wood-Jason.”
“Right.” I nodded. “Wood-Jason is my personal favorite. Maybe one day I can stop by your garage and see your room.”
“You can come right now,” she said.
I wanted to leap at her offer, but Mazzy had given me one hour today. I assumed that hour didn’t include a home tour.
“How about next time?” I asked.
“Okay,” she replied. “You can come to my house, and then I can come to your house.”
“Yeah? I’d love that.”
“I know.” She patted my hand before springing off the bench. “I’m gonna go slide seven more times. Bye!”
She darted back to the playground, leaving me breathless and bereft. How was that even possible? A day ago, I’d been going through life, having no idea she even existed, and now, it was difficult to no longer be in her presence.
