“Thank you, ma’am. Wait—you’re not leaving, are you?”
“I’m just going back into the kitchen. I have to get back to work.”
She pauses, then takes a drink, downing half the glass in one gulp.
“Could you stay for a minute? ‘Cause what if I need more?”
Who could say no to that face?
“I can wait just a minute and see if you need a refill. How about that?”
She nods and sips at her water.
“My name is Layla. What’s yours?”
“I’m Delaney.”
“Delaney. That’s a pretty name. Never heard that one.”
“Layla is also a beautiful name.”
“Thanks. I like it. My sister’s name is Lena, but she’s kind of a baby, so she can’t dance by herself.”
“I saw you dancing, and you’re an excellent dancer.”
“Yeah, I know. But I had to take a break.” I love her confidence.
“Well, then it’s a good thing to get some water in you. Dancing is like exercise.”
“Delaney?”
“Yes?”
“Are you married?”
A snort-laugh escapes me. Damn it. My cheeks heat.
“Hey, you just did a snortanda laugh at the same time! I do that sometimes.” She’s grinning like it’s the best thing in the world, and it eases my embarrassment.
“You do? Well, that makes me feel better. I thought I was the only one.” I smile at her. “Do you wanna know what I call it?”
“A snort?”
“Nope. I call it asnuckle—a snort and a chuckle. Did you knowchuckleis another way to say laugh?”
Her eyes widen.
“I didn’t, but now I do—and I likesnuckle.” She stands up and swipes the hair off her cheek with her little hand. “I bet that’s easier to write in a story, and I have to write stories sometimes for school. I think I’m gonna use that word. None of the other kids will know it yet.”
“Okay, but if you do, make sure your teacher knows it’s a word you made up and not a spelling mistake.”
“Oh, she wouldn’t think I made a spelling’ mistake. I’m real smart. I think I get that from my daddy.” She pauses and furrows her little brow. “My first mom wasn’t so smart, I don’t think, ‘cause she left me and Lena and my daddy. And he’s a good catch. You can’t be smart if you left us three.”
She still looks happy, but something in me aches for her. I’m trying to think of the right words to say back, but I don’t get a chance.
“But it’s okay, ‘cause my mommy—my real mommy whopickedme—she’s super smart. She does number stuff. That’s her out there. She married my dad today. Isn’t she pretty?”
I grin at the little girl. “She’s very pretty. So are you.”
