“I’m sorry, Grady, I don’t want to upset her,” Lou says, a tremble at her bottom lip. “If she’s not comfortable, I’ll skip dinner. Just let me know.”
“Hey, Paige adores you,” I tell the woman in front of me who feels everything with an intensity I’ve never seen before. “She’s probably more embarrassed than anything. Go shower and bake, I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”
Lou leaves, and I head back into the house to find my kid. She’s sitting on the sofa, between her grandparents. Only, her back is on the seat, her legs hanging on the back as she watches a princess movie upside down.
“I don’t like this part,” she says. “His face is too big and he’s mean. How does he think he’s going to win the girl if he’s a big bully?”
“When I was your age, they used to tell us girls that if a boy was mean to you, it meant he liked you,” my mom tells her.
“Well, that’s dumb.”
“I agree,” Mom says. “If a boy is mean to you, you stay away from him.”
“You stay away from the ones that are mean to other people, too,” Dad adds. “In fact, just stay away from boys altogether.”
I smile and lean against the wall, taking in the conversation.
“Can I be friends with Bryant? He’s nice to everyone and smiles all the time.”
“Sure, Piglet,” he tells her begrudgingly.
“Thanks, Eeyore,” she says, swaying her head so her hair sweeps the floor.
“Hey, Paige,” I say, making myself known. Her eyes dart up to me. “Wanna talk?”
“About you and Lulu?”
“Yeah,” I say with a nod as she spins around, practically kicking my dad in the head in her maneuver to sit upright.
“I think we need to go over the rules,” she says, fisting her hands at her waist as she tries to take an authoritative tone. “Rule number one.”
“What do I like about her?”
“Yep.” She pops her p.
“I like her empathy. How she cares about other people, even ones she doesn’t know very well. Even when she’s hurting more than them,” I say. “I like that she finds joy when everything seems sad. I love how strong she is, and I love when she laughs.”
“You don’t like how pretty she is?” Paige asks like I’ve lost my mind.
“I like that, too,” I answer. “The other stuff is more important.”
“I guess so,” she says, hissing through the spot her tooth once was. “Rule number two.”
“She makes me feel young again. Like I’m experiencing things for the first time.”
“Things you did a long time ago?”
“Yep,” I say, mimicking her popping sound.
“Like kiiiiiissssssiiiinnnggg,” she singsongs, making my mother laugh lightly.
“Yes, like that,” I say, suppressing my laughter. “Is that okay? You can tell me if it isn’t. You’ll always be the most important gal in my life, after all.”
“Sure. Mom kisses Bobby, sometimes,” she says, shrugging. “And I like Lulu a lot more than I like Bobby.”
Bobby is the new boyfriend. The one who, allegedly, doesn’t want kids. It’s enough for me not to like him very much. Because what the fuck kind of asshole says something like that in earshot of your girlfriend’s daughter?
“Lou really likes you, too.”
