Claire pretended not to notice.
“Claire?”
“Yes?”
“Do you think my mommy forgot me?”
Claire’s heart stopped.
This was not in the imaginary parenting manual she wished she had read before breakfast.
She answered carefully.
“I don’t think I can know what your mom thinks.”
Maggie looked down.
“But I know your dad doesn’t forget you.”
“No.”
“And I know you are very easy to remember.”
Maggie glanced up.
“Why?”
“You ask difficult questions.”
That made her smile.
Claire leaned forward.
“Your dad told me your mom cares about you. Grown-up lives can get complicated.”
Maggie stirred the chocolate.
“I wish they didn’t.”
“Me too.”
“Daddy says I can love her even when I’m mad.”
“That sounds wise.”
“I’m mad sometimes.”
“You can be.”
Maggie looked at Claire.
“Can I love other people too?”
“Of course.”
“Even mom-type people?”
Claire felt her throat tighten.
“Especially people who care about you.”
Maggie nodded.
Then she reached across the table.
“Do you care about me?”
Claire had known this child for less than a week.
Everything rational inside her told her not to make emotional promises too quickly.
But something else answered first.
“Yes.”
Maggie’s fingers curled around hers.
“I care about you too.”
That evening Claire brought Maggie home at six.
Ethan opened the door before they reached the porch.
“How was it?”
Maggie pushed past him.
“I wore a crown and Claire built a bad bridge and we had hot chocolate and she knows how to do braids but not fast.”
Claire looked offended.
