to the kitchen.
Tildy patiently deals out a few cards then musses the
rest in the middle. “Okay. That’s the pond. You know how to
play?”
“I do.”
“Good.”
Kids are funny. She’s so solemn and serious about this,
dressed like a princess going to a pageant. I love it. We play a
few games, which I manage to lose even though I’m actually
trying. Tildy obviously likes the game because she deals
everything out again.
Except instead of asking me if I have a five or an eight
or a four, she asks me something I don’t expect. “Are you and
my auntie dating?”
“Oh. Well…yes. I would say that we are.” Saying it out
loud makes me feel deliciously warm inside. The kind of
warmth you get drinking a steaming cup of coffee on a cold
day, which doesn’t happen often in Phoenix, but it has
happened. Or wrapping a nice warm blanket around yourself
when you’re exhausted.
“Are you in love?”
Love. Wow. This girl asks all the tough questions. How
does one explain romance and love to a six-year-old? “I think
that there are many different kinds of love. Sometimes it’s
instant and sometimes you have to grow into it and it takes
some time. It’s different than the love you feel for your family
and friends. Romantic love is very special and you know that
right away, but there are other words people use for it at first.
Happiness. A spark. A special connection.”
“Oh.” Tildy’s eyes get wide. I’m not sure she