“Of course,” she nods, her hands folded neatly in her lap. “Structure and routine are so important for children. I’m very organized. I believe a clean, predictable environment is foundational.”
I nod, scanning the resume again. Everything looks good. Too good, maybe, but I’m trying not to be paranoid.
Emma tugs my sleeve. “Dad, can I put the sprinkles on the pancakes?”
“After we finish talking, bug.”
Patricia turns her calibrated smile to Emma. “Do you enjoy preschool, Emma?”
Emma, sensing a shift in attention, brightens. “We have a turtle named Sheldon. I get to feed him lettuce on Tuesdays. And we have a loft with pillows and I’m the best reader in my class.” The last part is delivered with matter-of-fact pride, not boastfulness.
“That’s wonderful! Reading is a superpower.”
“I know. Dad says it makes my hippocampus grow.”
Patricia’s smile tightens, just at the corners. “How…scientific.”
“And I’m lucky because I get to be in preschool for an extra year since my birthday’s late.” She grins, excited now. “Do you want to guess when my birthday is?”
Patricia laughs. “Can you give me a hint?”
“Okay. Um. It’s the day when everybody goes trick-or-treating!”
“Hmm. That’s a good clue.” Patricia shoots me a playful wink. “Can you give me another one?”
“And you get to wear costumes!”
“Hmm, quite interesting.”
“And there’s lots of candy everywhere and people put scary decorations on their houses with ghosts and skeletons!”
Patricia taps her finger against her chin, pretending to think really hard. Emma’s watching her with wide eyes, practically buzzing with anticipation at the thought that she might have stumped her.
Patricia grins mischievously. “Hmm…is it…it wouldn’t happen to be…Halloween? Would it?”
Emma squeals. “Yes, yes! You got it right!”
“That’s a wonderful birthday!”
“I know! Because I get cakeandcandy. So it’s like two celebrations.”
“That’s the best. You’re a very lucky girl.”
“I know. Last year I was Ariel fromThe Little Mermaidand I got SO much candy! Like, a whole bucket full. And Dad let me eat four whole pieces before bed.”
“Four pieces? Wow! Your dad must be really nice.”
Emma looks at me and grins. “He’s okay.”
“Justokay?” I ask, raising a brow.
“You’re pretty good, I guess.”
Patricia laughs, and I can feel myself relaxing slightly. This is going well.Betterthan well. Emma’s engaged, happy, talkingfreely. Patricia’s warm and natural and doesn’t seem fazed by any of it.
“Would you like some tea?” I ask Patricia, standing up. “I was just about to make some.”
“That sounds lovely, thank you.”
