“Yeah,” another adds, squinting at me. “He looks like a pirate, but nice.”
“Are you Miss Hart’s boyfriend?” asks a girl with a unicorn headband and absolutely no shame.
The room goes still.
I blink. So does Olive.
Then a chorus of “Ooooohhh!” erupts like we’re all in third grade—which, technically, we’re not. But emotionally? Nailed it.
Olive’s cheeks flush pink, but she recovers quickly. “Actually, we’re getting married next month.”
Another little voice pipes up beside me.
“Mr. Ryder?”
I glance down. A tiny, curly-haired four-year-old is looking up at me with big eyes and a solemn expression.
“Yeah, kiddo?”
She tilts her head, very serious. “Are you and Miss Hart gonna have a baby?”
I blink.
Olive chokes on her water. “Ava!” she wheezes, bright red. “Oh my god—”
“I’m just asking!” Ava insists, wide-eyed. “Because my cousin says when a man sleeps in the same bed as a lady, his penis puts a baby in her belly.”
Olive looks like she might spontaneously combust. “We—We don’t—That is not—Okay, that’s enough science for today!”
I cough hard, nearly crack a rib trying not to laugh. “Uh… that’s… wow. That’s a very advanced theory, Ava.”
She nods solemnly. “That’s what happened to my mommy when Trevor stayed over. Now she’s got twins.”
I smile gently. “Right. But no baby right now. We’re just practicing being married.”
Another kid chimes in. “Like in pretend play?”
“Exactlylike that,” Olive says quickly.
Then a boy in a shark costume raises his hand. “Does your penis sparkle because you’re famous?”
Olive jumps in. “Okay! Let’s start getting ready for our performances, okay?”
The chaos shifts into preparation mode, and I slide onto a tiny bench beside Olive, who gives me a look that saysdon’t you dare.
“I didn’t say anything,” I murmur, all innocence.
“Your smirk is loud,” she mutters, but I can see her mouth twitching.
And then the show begins. The lights dim—well, one of the fluorescents flickers off—and just like that, the “stage” is open.
It’s just a taped-off square of carpet in front of the cubbies, but to these kids, it might as well be Broadway.
Olive gives me a quick grin as she hits play on a tiny Bluetooth speaker. “Brace yourself. It’s about to get adorable.”
She wasn’t kidding.
First up: a shy kid named Milo who performs a dramatic interpretive dance to thePaw Patroltheme song. He flails like he’s exorcising demons, then ends with jazz hands. I give him a standing ovation.
