Stuck-Up Suit
I knelt down in front of her. “You’re a smart cookie.”
“What’s your name?”
“Graham.”
“Like Graham Cracker?”
“Yes. I suppose.”
“You’re a smart cracker!”
I chuckled. “You’re very funny, Chloe.”
Genevieve interjected, “Chloe…Graham is a friend of Daddy and Mommy’s. He’s joining us for dinner tonight.”
“Did you know my Daddy died?”
“Yes. I’m very sorry for you. I know he loved you very much.”
She walked over to the end table and picked up a framed picture, bringing it over to me. In the snapshot, Liam was looking lovingly over at her as autumn leaves fell around them. There was no doubt that he adored her. I wanted to feel bitter, but seeing the smile on her face in the photo made that impossible.
“That’s a really great photo of the two of you.”
“Thanks.”
Struggling with what to say to her next, I asked, “Do you always wear pajamas this early?”
“Sometimes.”
“They look very comfy. I wish they made those in my size.”
She scrunched her little nose. “That would be silly.”
“Yes. I suppose it would be.”
She handed me her teddy bear and said, “Look! Teddy Grahams…like the little cookies.” Then she started to belly laugh.
I laughed because she was laughing. “Clever.”
“Dinner is ready!” Genevieve called out from the kitchen. She’d set up the dining room table. A large, white, rectangular platter was filled with the rice noodles and veggies she’d made. A plate of chicken nuggets and mixed vegetables was placed in front of what I assumed was Chloe’s seat. The Dora the Explorer placemat was a dead giveaway.
“Graham, you said you just want water?” Genevieve asked.
“That’s right.”
“Chloe, you want your usual strawberry milk?”
Strawberry milk?
No way.
I turned to Chloe. “Strawberry milk? I love strawberry milk.”
“That’s my favorite.”
“What kind?”
“Quik,” she said.
I’d never had Nesquik milk in front of Genevieve. So, she had no idea what a crazy coincidence this was.
“That’s wild. That’s my favorite drink in the whole wide world, too.” I turned to Genevieve. “Can I change my request to strawberry milk, as well?”
“Of course.” Genevieve seemed amused.
In my daughter’s presence, I would for the first time in my adult life drink Nesquik milk openly and shamelessly. I’d come out of the strawberry milk closet.
Chloe turned to her mother. “You have to give him a crazy straw.”
“Oh, I don’t think he wants one.”
For Chloe’s benefit, I looked at Genevieve like she was crazy for thinking I wouldn’t. “Of course I do!”
Genevieve shook her head then placed a long, pink swirly straw in front of me. Chloe got a real kick out of watching me drink from it.
“You know, Chloe, I never realized how much better this milk tastes when you drink it from a crazy straw.”
“I know!” she squealed.
The joy in her eyes was palpable. I could get used to this. It made me feel so good that the mere sight of a big lug like me doing childish things could put a much-needed smile on her face. This little girl had just been through a traumatic loss, but she was well-adjusted and loved by her mother. I had to, at least, give Genevieve that. She seemed to be a very good mother.
Throughout dinner, Chloe enjoyed watching me slurp my noodles. I would do it cross-eyed just to make her laugh again and again. Genevieve stayed quiet but observant, often resting her chin in her hand as she watched us. She was taking a step back, allowing Chloe and I to bond.
After dinner, Genevieve made Chloe wash her hands and brush her teeth. I wasn’t sure what the rest of the evening held until Chloe came up behind me again and asked, “Are you sleeping over?”
“No. No, I’m not. But I’ll stay a while. What’s next on the agenda?”
“The what?”
I had to learn to make my language more kid-friendly.
“What do you like to play after dinner?”
“Dress up.”
“Dress up?”
“Yes.”
“What does that entail?”
“No tails. Dresses.”
I chuckled. “Dresses?”
“Yes.” Then she ran away, presumably to go fetch something.