“Well, not too long,” Ben joked.
The place became loud and chaotic again. Chance and Sam came around with bags for trash. Ben and Xavier took down the folding table to open up more space. Apparently some of the women were organizing a round of karaoke, and they needed room to move.
“Daddy, can we go look at the llamas now?” Addie asked me. She’d been excited about the animals since we’d arrived. I’d promised we’d check them out after dinner.
“Go get your shoes and coat on,” I told her. “I’ll be right there.”
Addie zipped off, and I turned to Magnolia. “Would you like to go to the barn with us?”
With her attention on Quincy and Presley, who were setting up the karaoke speaker, she said, “Trust me when I say nobody wants me singing. It would frighten the children. So as long as Esmerelda doesn’t assault me again, I’ll go with you.”
“If she does, I’ll rescue you,” I said, grinning as I remembered the night we first kissed. “Again.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
Ben came out to the barn with us, saying he wanted to check on a pregnant barn cat who was getting close.
“Are you sure those kittens aren’t going to wind up inside with the rest of the herd?” I joked, referencing the three dogs and five cats who were closed in on the second story of the house for the evening.
“If I want to stay married, they’re staying out here,” he said, laughing. He headed up the stairs to the hayloft, where he’d last seen the pregnant cat.
Addie ran ahead of us, stopping off at each of the three horse stalls and quickly greeting the horses. Then she skipped ahead to the llamas.
“Esmerelda!” Addie called like it was a celebrity sighting.
“I wouldn’t mind meeting Betty,” Magnolia said.
“You’re not scared of a little llama love, are you?” I asked.
“Esmerelda is a menace,” she said with conviction.
We said hello to Betty, the brown-and-white llama, then backtracked to Esmerelda, the pure white, long-haired llama who looked at us with so much judgment as we approached.
“Look at her,” Magnolia said. “I swear she has it in for me.”
“Esmerelda is a sweet girl,” Addie said, closing in on Esmerelda’s stall door.
“Come here, doodlebug,” I said. When my daughter came up to me, I lifted her so she could see over the wall.
She cooed at the judgmental llama, but Esmerelda barely gave her a second glance.
Instead the white barn queen strode in her slow llama way toward Magnolia, who stood three feet from me, toward one side of the stall.
“Hey, Esmerelda,” Addie sang. “You’re such a pretty girl.”
Esmerelda didn’t even blink at my daughter, who wanted her acknowledgment so badly.
“Go visit Addie,” Magnolia said to the llama, pointing. “She loves you.”
Ben came up to us then. “No kittens yet but the mama cat told me in no uncertain terms to back off. Hey, Es.”
The llama turned her big eyes on him for a moment, then looked back at Magnolia, who raised both hands.
“I’m not your person,” she said, laughing. “What is her deal? Why is she staring at me?”
“Addie, we’re playing tag!” Xavier yelled in the barn doorway. “Come on!”
Addie forgot the llama and galloped toward the exit.
