Life and Other Inconveniences(71)

“I like sitting here,” I said. “Thank you for wanting to stay in the car.”

“I don’t want to stay.”

“Oh. Okay. Well, there are nine doors to get inside,” I said. “Would you like to pick the one we go in?”

She looked at me, trying to figure out how I was tricking her. Smart kid.

“Or we can just stay out here,” I offered.

“We go in now,” she pronounced.

“Great choice,” I said, unbuckling her.

“What you name?” she asked.

“Emma.”

“I hate that name.”

“I’m not wild about it, either,” I said.

She started to get out of the car, but I blocked her. “Hold hands, please.”

“No.”

“The ocean is close,” I said. “I’d like us to hold hands so we don’t fall in it and get cold,” I said.

“No!”

“Okay. Back in the car seat, then.”

She stuck out her lower lip.

“Car seat, or hold hands,” I said.

She didn’t answer—that would be conceding too much power—but she let me take her little hand. I tried not to smile.

Once she was out of the car, I got a better look at her. She was quite the combination of her dad and Ashley—dark eyes like her father (I seemed to remember Ashley’s were green or blue). Her hair was curly, like Ashley’s had been. And snarled, unlike Ashley’s. Practically dreadlocks. We walked around Sheerwater until she stopped and pointed at Door Number 4, which went into the kitchen. Shaylee the Silent was taking a sheet of mini-quiches out of the oven as Helga scowled. “Shaylee, Helga, this is Tess Finlay,” I said.

Shaylee nodded our way, reinforcing my idea that Helga had scared the ability to speak out of her (or cut out her tongue).

“Get that kid out of my kitchen,” Helga said.

“You get out,” Tess said. “You go now.”

“What a brat,” Helga said.

“You a brat.”

I kind of liked Tess. “See you later,” I said, leading Tess through the kitchen and into the conservatory.

Tess lurched to a halt.

It was a sea of legs, after all, from her point of view. In the time we’d been outside, the other guests had arrived . . . ten or so adults, all talking, plus Riley, who was five eight. “Want me to pick you up so you can see?” I asked Tess.

“No,” she said, but she reached her little arms up to me, and I picked her up.

She didn’t smell great; she could use a bath, and my fingers were itching for a comb. But the feeling of a little one in my arms . . . it was awfully sweet.

Riley saw us, said something to her dad and came right over. “Hi, kid,” she said. “How’s it going? High five?”

And just like that, Tess high-fived her. “Riley, this is Tess. Tess, this is my little girl, Riley.”

Tess stared at Riley for a minute. “Your hair pretty,” she said.

“Thanks,” Riley said. “Want to touch it?”

Tess did, then smiled.

Kids always seemed to possess an instinct for who was another kid, no matter how tall they were.

“Want to go play?” Riley asked, and Tess nodded.

A boy with dark hair and beautiful liquid black eyes came over. “Oh, Mom, this is Aarav Talwar. His parents live here in the summer.”

“It’s so nice to meet you,” he said. “I go by Rav.”

“Emma London,” I said. “Riley’s mom.” He was maybe her age, maybe a little younger. “What grade are you in, honey?” Riley rolled her eyes at the endearment. Sue me.

“Tenth. Just finished,” he said.

“Where do you go to school?”

“Mom,” Riley said. “We’re gonna go entertain the little kid, okay? Save the interview for another time, maybe?” She nudged my shoulder with hers, letting me know she didn’t really mind.

I smiled at them both. “Just make sure it’s okay with her dad. Miller. Your father’s cousin.”

“Yeah, we met at a job site last week. He seems nice.” I handed Tess over to Riley, and the kid didn’t protest. “Hey, Miller,” Riley said. “Is it okay if we take Tess upstairs?”

“Uh, yeah. If she’ll go. Tess, do you want to play with Riley?”

She didn’t answer her father, too busy fondling my daughter’s hair.

“Want to see my room and play with my stuff?” Riley asked her. Tess looked at Rav. “Don’t worry about him. He’s nice.”

“We go,” Tess decided.

“Come get me if you need me,” Miller said, his eyes a little wide with wonder.

“I no need you, Daddy. We never coming back.”

“Harsh, Tess,” Riley said, reading my mind, but she smiled. “We’ll definitely come back. See you in a bit!”

With that, they left, my daughter and Miller’s, and the handsome boy.

My heart felt like warm caramel. Wouldn’t it be so nice if Rav and Riley became friends! And how sweet that they were both going to play with Tess! (Or smoke pot. Or meth. Or give each other homemade tattoos. Or have sex. Or lose Tess.) I let the familiar stream of maternal doom run through my head. I knew my child, and I trusted her. She adored kids and had been babysitting since she passed the Red Cross test when she was twelve.