“Even so, we’ll sell the house to pay it back,” Mom says. “Whatever it takes, Grady.”
“Whatever what takes?” Paige comes running down the hall. I haven’t spoken to her about what’s happening, seeing no sense in it until I know what the results are. I haven’t spoken to Lou about it either. I don’t want to disappoint either of them. Besides my parents, Jules is the only one who knows.
She called the other day to check up on Mac’s dad, too afraid to call herself. I took the opportunity to vent to a trusted friend.
“Nothing to worry your perfect head about,” I tell her, picking her up and flipping her upside down while I tickle her. Paige’s infectious laughter heals something inside me. It’s serotonin or a dopamine rush.
“It’s not perfect; it’s messy! I didn’t do it right,” she says between giggles.
“You did great. What do you mean?” I flip her upright and take in her braids. They look good to me, though I don’t know shit about it.
“No, it’s not right,” she says, pointing to the side of her head. “See? Here. It’s wrong.”
“You’ll get it, you’re still learning.”
“Ugh, how long is it going to take?” She rolls her eyes dramatically.
“Anything worth learning takes time,” Dad says.
“I’m going to be twelve by the time I figure it out,” she says, her fists landing on her hips. It’s the pose she takes every time she’s frustrated. “By then, I probably won’t even like braids.”
“By then, you’ll have mastered it so well, you’ll be able to do it with your eyes closed,” I tell her. “You accomplish everything you put your mind to. You always have.”
“Grandma calls me determined.”
“Little Miss Determined,” my mother corrects.
“She’s right,” I say. “You’re also smart and brave.”
“I don’t know about that,” she says. “I’m still kinda scared of the dark.”
“We all are at your age,” I tell her.
“You were?” Her eyes widen.
“Heck yeah.”
“But you aren’t, now.”
“Nope. It goes away with time,” I say.
She looks skeptical but eventually nods with acceptance.
“What are we doing today?” she asks, because my parents are going to have lunch with friends and will likely be gone most of the day.
“Whatever you want,” I say.
“Can we do a puzzle?”
“Absolutely.”
“And have peanut butter apple sandwiches?”
“Of course.”
“Can I spread the peanut butter?”
“Who else would do it?”
