Such a Fun Age(43)



Emira exhaled in thought.

“If you eat all your toes?” Briar looked back at Emira, and whispered, “Then, then guess what, Mira? No more toes.”

Emira pressed the main button on her cell phone, smiled, and said, “Lemme ask him.” As Alix prayed for the second time that evening, Emira wrapped her other arm around Briar’s waist. “B, should I eat turkey here with you? I don’t really like eating toes.” Emira wore earrings with square copper plates, and instead of answering, Briar reached up for them and said, “I want to open dis.”

“It doesn’t open, mama,” Emira told her as she texted. Hearing this pet name made Alix fidget and think, Please o please o please come tomorrow.

Emira looked at Briar and asked, “Should I come eat pie with you this week?”

“Yes,” Briar decided. “But you can only have ten pieces.”

“Only ten? That seems fair, I guess.” Emira looked at her phone. She looked back up at Alix. “He said he’d love to come.”

It took everything in Alix not to drop her daughter and hold her chilled cheekbones in her hands.

“Did you hear that?” Alix said into Catherine’s ear. “Mira’s gonna come eat turkey too!”

“Is that okay?” Emira reached over and squeezed Catherine’s foot. “Can I come hang out with you on Thanksgiving?”

And then, Catherine May Chamberlain looked at Emira and said, “Hi.”

Emira and Alix gasped. Alix felt her face flush and tears run to the corners of her eyes. She turned her daughter around and brought her face up high. “Did you just say hi?” she asked. “Did you say hi to Mira? Briar, did you hear your sister?”

“Mama?” Briar called. “Can you . . . you take a picture of Mira’s earring? Let’s take a picture.”

Emira bounced her. “Your sister just said hi, big girl.”

“Can you say hi again? No?” Alix swallowed. Catherine smiled sweetly and Alix held her little body close. She shook her head happily and said, “Emira, go home.”

Emira laughed and said, “What?”

“It’s insane out there, go home. And we’ll see you on Thanksgiving.”

“Oh, I can give Briar a bath real quick.”

“No, no. Mira, go.” The warmth Alix felt for her daughter’s first word, and for the day she was about to have—it was almost too much to keep in one room. If Emira stayed much longer, Alix would risk accidentally saying I love you, or ask if Emira liked babysitting for them, or how old Emira thought she was. “Actually,” she said. “Wait one second.”

Alix set Catherine back down in the Bumbo, retrieved a Whole Foods bag from a bottom drawer, and opened up her refrigerator. She filled the grocery bag with two bottles of water, a frozen tortellini dinner, a can of soup, a can of chili, a pack of Briar’s animal cookies, and a bottle of red wine.

Emira came into the kitchen. “Wait, Mrs. Chamberlain, what is this?”

“This is yours.” Alix pushed it into her arms. “I’m sure you have food at home, but this is better than anything you will find at a grocery store right now.”

“Whoa . . .” Emira adjusted the bag in her arms. “This is really, really nice.”

“Just do me a favor”—Alix beamed—“and come very hungry on Thursday. And Emira, I mean it. You’re not coming to babysit. You’ll be here as family. Okay?”

Emira pouted a little in a way that made her look quite young. She pulled up the back of her leggings and said, “Okay.”





Twelve


On Thanksgiving Day, at 4:06 p.m., Emira stepped out of a yellow cab in beige faux-suede boots. Kelley held the back of her arm as she spotted previously made footprints in the snow on the way up to the Chamberlain front gate. It was the first time all day the snow had stopped falling, and above their heads, it balanced an inch high on naked trees, wires, and window ledges. Emira stopped with one hand on the gate latch, and the other around a bouquet of purple and yellow daisies. Through the cold, she could see her own breath.

“Hey. Do we need a code word or something?” she said.

Kelley stuck his hands into his pockets and matched her low tone. “A code word for what?”

“If you’re like . . .” Emira blushed. “If you’re not having a good time and you want to leave.”

“Ohhh, okay. How about . . . ‘I don’t want to be here anymore.’”

Emira shoved his chest and opened the gate. “Boy, stop.”

“We’ll be fine. I’m happy to be here,” he said. “I am expecting excellent wine, though.”

“I’m sure you won’t be disappointed.”

At the top of the landing, Emira went to take out her key, but today was different. She could already hear women’s voices inside, along with multiple children who could speak in full sentences. Kelley stood next to her—so holiday handsome—in dark jeans, a red sweater, and a black coat that went down to his knees. They’d spent the last twenty-four hours together at his apartment having lots of sex, watching bad movies, and ordering in, and Emira felt more like an adult than she could have ever imagined. She looked up at him and whispered, “I feel weird using my key.”

Kiley Reid's Books