“She does,” I tell her. “I think he’s nice to her.”
Thea’s eyes narrow. “But not toeveryone?”
The interpreter does a pretty good job adding intonation, but I don’t need it.Thea’s tightly coiled energy is emphasis enough.
She also doesn’t miss a thing.This makes being tactful very difficult. I decide to switch tactics.
“You’re very smart,” I say.
Thea rolls her eyes before I can go on. “Mom shouldn’t be with someone who is only pretend nice.”
“I agree,” I tell her. “I think you should meet Prince Charming and form your own opinion.”
“But what if he’s pretend nice to me?”
I’m glad the cameras aren’t getting this, but if Levi knew what he was missing, he would die.
“Probably I could tell, though,” she answers herself. “People are pretend nice to me a lot.”
“I bet you could tell. Nothing gets by you.”
“Or me!” Rosie adds to her squeal. Her blond hair is pulled up in pigtails, and they bounce with her every movement. Which means they’re bouncing a lot.
I wish I’d brought a coloring book or something. Are five-year-olds too old for coloring books?The occasional hangout with my toddler niece at family get-togethers hasn’t really given me a lot of knowledge about kids who are any older than her. Or, really, kids in general.
“Hey, Rosie,” I say. “What’s your favorite thing about Germany?”
“The pigeons!” Rosie shouts, as if we don’t have pigeons in California.
“My mom is smart like me,”Thea says, clearly wanting to get back to the important matters. “But she doesn’t go on many dates. I think she’s scared. I don’t want Prince Charming to hurt her.”
That’s really perceptive. I wonder if Becca’s aware of how muchThea has gleaned about her feelings on dating. “What do you think she’s afraid of?” I ask.
“Someone being mean to her and making her cry.”
I blink.That’s a pretty definite response, and I wonder if it’s based in somethingThea’s seen. “Why do you think she’s afraid of that?”
Thea hesitates, eyeing Rosie.Then she pulls a little notepad out of her pocket and starts writing furiously, her red curls hanging down over her face.
Yeah, she definitely knows something. I scoot closer to her and wait for her to turn the notepad so I can see it.
Because my dad used to make her cry,Thea has written.
Shit. I’m guessing Becca isn’t aware thatThea knows this, or she wouldn’t be so dead set on maintaining her kids’ image of their father. I don’t know what to do here. I clearly can’t say that I’ve heard about that, but I’m also not going to lie toThea and say I’m sure it didn’t happen.
But I’ve got to say something.
I take the pen she’s holding out to me.I’m sorry that happened,I write.The interpreter doesn’t seem to care that we’ve cut him out of the loop. He leans back in his seat and checks his phone.
I love my dad and I miss him,Thea writes.But Mom doesn’t cry as much now.
It breaks my heart thatThea notices this. I’m sure it would break Becca’s, too, but it feels like something she needs to know. She carries a heavy burden, hiding the truth from her daughters, and I’m guessing Rosie—who has climbed on the coffee table while I wasn’t paying attention and is now pretending to be rowing a boat—doesn’t have a clue.
I don’t want Mom to cry anymore,Thea writes.That’s why she needs someone who is nice to all of us.
I agree,I add, andThea quickly snatches the notepad back.
But don’t tell Mom I said that.
