“I know friends,” she says brightly. “I know Star. And Gia. And Jace. And Mischa.”
“That’s right.” It’s interesting she didn’t name Cody even though she’s met him several times. “This is a new friend. His name is Damon,” I tell her. “He works at the bar.”
“Like Gia?”
“Yep. He’s friends with Gia too.”
“And Shane and Bree?”
“Yep.”
I mean, they have a good working relationship, at least, but that distinction is probably a little too complicated for a five-year-old to grasp.
“I like Damon,” she pronounces.
“You haven’t even met him yet.”
She shrugs. “You said Damon is funny.”
I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head wryly at her logic. I’m not going to clarify that I was laughing at his gross underestimation of my intelligence. Instead, I tell her, “I’m sure he’ll like you too. You can meet him soon.”
Her eyes light up. “I meet Damon today?”
I let out a little snort at her enthusiasm. It must be killing her to know I have a friend she hasn’t met yet. “We have Piper’s birthday today, princess.”
She pouts with obvious disappointment, but before it turns into a full-on meltdown I rush to throw in a few silver linings that I know will cheer her up. “It’s a fancy party—you can choose a pretty dress to wear. And…Deacon’sgoing to be there,” I add, using the same tone and expression I would for an outing to see Santa or Bluey or one of her favorite Disney characters.
Damon is immediately forgotten as she starts bubbling over with excitement at the prospect of spending the day with her beloved kindergarten teacher.
“Why don’t you draw a picture for Deacon?” I suggest. “Then you can choose your dress.”
“Okay, Jazz,” she says with a bright smile, selecting a fresh sheet of bright yellow paper and starting to draw.
I decide to set a half-hour limit on her coloring just in case we need extra time to get ready—I have a feeling she’ll want to change her dress at least four times in an effort to impress Deacon. Striding out of the kitchen and over to the fireplace, I grab the analogue clock that sits on the mantle and take it over to the dining table. Setting it in front of Izzy, I point to the minute hand. “When this gets up here to number twelve it’s time to pack up your coloring and get ready for the party, okay?”
“Okay.”
I return to the kitchen and pick up my phone, seeing Damon’s eyes have finally retracted into their sockets and he’s managed a reply.
Me
Thanks for the clarification, I don’t think that came up on my 770 verbal. But it was nearly eight years ago so I’ve probably forgotten a few things
Damon Forrester
WTF?? You took the SATs when you were 13?? And you got a 770??
Me
I said NEARLY eight years ago. Like most people I took it spring of junior year. And I also got a 790
Oh and my college diploma is three years old just in case you were wondering about that.Took a bit longer than I planned because I was spending a lot of time helping out with my baby sister
Damon Forrester
I’m not sure I believe you…
I let out a breath of laughter, not at all surprised or offended by his doubt. I’m not exactly one to flaunt my academic achievements; the only reason I even stuck with college after Izzy was born is because I thought a business degree would be handy for running the bar.
