“And dino straws.”
“Is the cake going to be chocolate or vanilla?”
“Yellow.”
“Ah. That’s a color, not a flavor, isn’t it?”
And just like that, Mercer is grabbing up Zack’s bag in one tentacle, the invites in the other, and asking Zack if the cake is every yellow thing he can think of, getting sillier by the second, until Zack starts to giggle.
“Is it lemon? Banana? Summer squash? What about sunflower-flavored? Ooh, what about sun-flavored? No? Oh! Oh, I know! It’s construction equipment-flavored. Yum yum, with diesel icing. No?”
They’re out the door, giggling into the dusk while I watch and wonder what the heck more I could want out of a man.
Madelyn drops Zack off with a dozen kisses on his curly head, reminders that she can be reached on her cell phone, and a printed-out stack of emergency info handed off to the parents. Zack hands out the invites, and squealing commences again.
We leave a happy boy behind, but Madelyn looks grave and quiet.
I try to fix things, offering my hand as we walk towards the beach. “I’m sorry he asked you that. It must have put you in an awkward position. I know I could never bear to say no to Zack—unless it was harmful.”
“That’s just it. Saying yes wouldn’t be harmful. You’d be a great dad, I’m sure. You’d be an amazing husband. It’s me.There’s a lot about me and the past that’s stirred up and unsettled right now. Besides, we’ve only known each other for a few weeks.”
“A month next week,” I point out.
Madelyn grins at me. “Keeping track?”
“Absolutely. Ooh, speaking of marking the dates, let me tell you what I got Zack.I got him a dino excavation kit that comes with safety goggles, little chisels and brushes, and promises at least one real fossil and lots of toy dinos inside. It’s heavy, a big brick of plaster, I think. It says not suitable for children under three, but Zack will be three on Friday. Does that mean—”
Madelyn leans into my side with a happy sigh. “It means that you have to watch him with it, and you can’t just give it to him to play with on his own. Three-year-olds still put things in their mouths and can choke on small parts.Somethree-year-olds. Zack has never done much of that. He’s always been mature for his age. He hit a lot of milestones early.”
“I can tell. Obviously, I don’t intend to leave him alone with something that comes with safety goggles. It says ‘adult supervision required’ right on the box. Even though I think he’s gifted, I intend to help him with the kit.”
“I know you will. That’s why I think you’re wonderful. And you’d be a wonderful dad.”
My insides buzz, and everything inside of them feels like it’s steeped in honey, all golden and sweet from Madelyn’s praise and the wistful tone in her voice.
I want to press the point, but I don’t. “So. Has Zack ever been tested for some sort of young gifted program?”
“I’m not sure that he is gifted, per se, but he’s very bright, and he’s a fast learner.”
“Oh, anyone who sees him swim would know that!” My heart swells at how Zack moves in the water now. He reminds me of ayoung kraken, or even a merchild. I’m already dreading winter, when it’ll be too cold for our morning swims.
Madelyn nods. “His motor skills are coming along great, and he’s started writing more of his letters this week. The invitations were a big motivator.”
“I’m sure.” I chuckle.
“He’s had a big growth spurt in language and how much he talks just this month. His sentences are longer, and he uses a wider variety of words. Since he met you.”
I puff up with pride, and one of my tentacles drapes lazily around her hips. In the white gauzy sundress she’s wearing, she looks like some radiant goddess of old. It doesn’t help that she’s chosen some gold clips to hold back her curls and a chunky gold and turquoise necklace. “Well, I’m sure it’s not just me. It’s Allison, Petey, and that other little fellow from Petey’s class, Andrew. Older kids can really stimulate language production and development. Plus, you’re a wonderful mother, and you talk to Zack constantly about all kinds of things.”
Madelyn stops at the corner, turns to me, and looks up, eyes sparkling, not saying anything.
“Um. I meant to tell you how much I love that dress,” I murmur. “The whole look. It’s... Well. It’s calling to my kraken fantasies, let me put it that way.”
“You were talking about language development.”
“Um. Yes?” I’m not sure if that’s bad, but by the way Madelyn is looking at me as if I’m a big teal lollipop that she wants to devour, I don’t think it is.
“What kraken knows about toddler language skills?”
