“How come?”
“I’m not—” She pauses, and Kristie can tell she’s taking care to pick out the exact right words. “I’m notinterestedin returning home right now.”
“I see,” says Kristie, fighting even harder to keep her lips from turning up. “So where will you sleep? This store closes at ninep.m.” She recalls a long-ago story about a bear who spent a night in a department store, trying out all of the different beds.
Claire jabs a finger in Kristie’s direction and says, “I could stay with you?”
Kristie feels her heart warming to the melting point. Corduroy, that was the name of the bear. He was looking for the missing button to his overalls, not trying out all the beds. Sheila had read that book to Kristie when she was a kid. “That would be really fun.” She chooses her next words as carefully as Claire seemed to have chosen hers. “But I don’t have much extra room in my apartment. It’s pretty small. I’m not sure where you would sleep.”
“I can sleep anywhere,” offers Claire. “It’s one of my talents. I can sleep sitting up, or outside on the ground without a blanket. I can fall asleep on a pool float.”
“That’s a good talent,” says Kristie.
“My other talent is untangling knots.”
“Another good one. Very handy.”
“Yeah,” agrees Claire, sighing, like both of these talents are also heavy responsibilities to bear.
There is a scab on Claire’s knee and Claire starts to pick at it. Kristie finds herself saying, “Don’t do that!” and Claire immediately lets her hand fall.Wow, thinks Kristie,I just sounded like a legit mom. She touches her belly and thinks,See, kumquat? We might be okay after all.
Claire’s hand finds the scab again. “Seriously,” says Kristie. “You have to trust me. Don’t pick at it.”
“Mommy says I have summer knees,” says Claire. “I fall a lot. Not because I’m clumsy, just because I’m not scared to try stuff.”
“Summer knees,” says Kristie. “I like the sound of that. But if you keep picking at the scab, you know, it’s not going to heal right and you’ll end up with a scar.”
“I don’t mind that,” says Claire.
“You may not now. But maybe when you’re older, you’ll mind. Maybe you’ll want to wear a short skirt or a dress and you won’t like your scar then.”
“I don’t wear dresses.”
“Fair enough.”
“Do you have a scar?”
“I have a lot of scars.” Oh, does she ever have scars!
“Can I see them?”
Kristie sighs. “They’re not all visible to the naked eye. Some are on the inside.” Her newest scar is Danny.
Claire nods like she gets it. She points at Kristie’s ivy tattoo. “Is that a scar?”
“No. But it’s covering all sorts of scars.”
“Oh.” Claire considers this. “I think it’s really pretty. Can I touch it?”
“Sure.” Kristie holds out her arm and Claire traces her finger along the vine. Her touch is soft. Her nail—all of her nails—are bitten way down, ragged along the edges. Kristie sits very still as Claire traces a leaf. It feels nice, having a little kid’s hand on her like this. It feels innocent and sweet.
A shadow falls over them, breaking the spell. It’s Diana. She looks from Kristie to Claire and back again, and then she says, “Cute kid. But you need to get those boxes done. I’ve got a delivery coming in at noon.”
“Got it,” says Kristie. She reclaims her arm and stands. “I’m on it. Hey, Claire. I need to get back to work.”
Claire hops off the bench. “I’ll just come with you, and watch you work. Maybe I can help you.”
“Um, okay,” says Kristie. She glances at Diana, who is pretending not to listen. She’s pretty sure little girls aren’t covered under the store’s insurance policy. “Sure, okay, why not? Maybe for a little while. But then we’re going to have to call your mom.”
