Luckily, Kira is talkative today and easily fills the entire drive with dragon role play. Although I’m only called upon to portray one insignificant dragon and Kira feeds me all my lines, I’m working harder at being a Cool Older Friend to Kira than I’veworked at anything in five years. She will make the perfect micromanaging CEO someday.
I watch Nick deftly parallel park in a questionably legal spot and momentarily feel guilty for wishing that we were alone in the back seat again instead of attending a family-friendly holiday celebration.
We grab a couple of blankets and Nick’s cooler from the back of the van. Kira is still glued to the tablet dragons, so she doesn’t even notice our conversation as we walk close behind her through the crowds. She’s wearing an orange jacket, so at least it’s easy to keep track of her.
It’s dusk and still sticky-hot out. I’m sure I put on deodorant, but dammit if Speed Stick isn’t letting me down at a critical juncture.
“Kira, don’t play on the tablet while you’re walking,” Nick says, with absolutely no reaction from her. “You’re gonna run into someone.”
Sometimes Nick’s right hand swipes at my left and I know that if we weren’t trying to stay under his kid’s radarandwe didn’t both have our hands occupied with a blanket and a cooler, we’d be holding hands, and it would probably feel a little wonderful. But I’m too scared of Kira seeing something to take any chances with clandestine romantic gestures. If she turned around and saw us holding hands, she’d probably karate chop them apart.
“She’s going to want me to buy some glow sticks,” Nick murmurs, just low enough so Kira can’t hear. “Don’t let me do it. I should’ve thought to get some at the dollar store.”
“No glow sticks, got it.”
We squeeze the blanket into a small unoccupied grass patch and unpack our little selection of waters and Gatorades and bags of chips. It only takes Kira a few minutes before she announces that she’s bored. Understandable. It’s just a mass of peoplewaiting for something to happen. She spots a group of kids doing gymnastics on the lawn and informs Nick that she’ll be joining them.
“Stay where I can see you,” he calls after her.
“It’s amazing how she can march into a group of kids she’s never met and start playing,” I say.
“I know I’m biased,” he says. “But she’s a great kid. I got very lucky.”
He puts his arm around me, and even though it’s a little too warm out for cuddling, we sit like that for a while. Sweating together. I likeit.
“Oh, I meant to tell you,” he says, shifting to face me. “Kira read the comics you lent us. She wants to read more.”
“I can dig out a few others.”
“Or maybe she could come over sometime and look?” he asks.
Before I agree to that—the idea of sticky hands on my dad’s collection makes me break out in hives—I feel a strong shove from behind, accompanied by aBOOO!that hammers directly on my eardrum.
“Kira!” Nick yells.
I look up and she’s standing over my bent torso.
“I got you so good!”
“I’m not going to tell you again,” Nick says. “You can’t push people. Especially not adults. I want to hear an apology.”
“Sow-wy,” she says, using a baby talk voice that makes me less inclined to forgive her.
I’m still focusing on getting my heart rate back to normal levels after the jump scare.
“Can I get glow sticks?” Kira asks.
I look at Nick, and to my surprise, he hauls himself up to search for the roaming vendors selling glow sticks at wildlyinflated prices. “Stay with Sam until I get back,” he says, shooting me an apologetic look.
“Can I use your phone?” Kira asks, speaking of things that trigger hives. “My tablet’s dead.”
“Why don’t you play with something that doesn’t have a screen?” I say. It’s one of the most hypocritical things I’ve ever said.
“Puh-lease? I’m bored.”
This is the most vulnerable I have ever felt. My phone is my security blanket. My lifeline. My keeper of secrets.
But the idea of saying no to Kira makes me equally uneasy.
