Page 23 of Liam

“Bye, Mama!”

“What do you want to do today?” I ask closing the door behind me.

“Film like Uncle Twinnies!”

Princess is a poser, and usually, she loves being in front of the camera, especially since we set up a TV to stream what shows through the lens. Today, though, it only lasts a few minutes before she’s bouncing off the walls. She wants to draw; we draw. She wants snacks; I get her snacks. She wants to ride me like a horse; I get down on my hands and knees. I do everything she wants, but it doesn’t stop the tears that inevitably come.

She’s screaming, crying,wailing, and I have no idea how we got here. “Maybe try to use your words,” I plead, sitting up on my knees while Katie sits on the couch, her bottom lip quivering. I don’t think she can hear me over the sound of her cries, and so I grab my phone from my desk, ready to call in some reinforcements. Before I can pull up my contacts, Adelaide enters the room and beelines for Katie. Katie’s cries soften, but don’t stop completely. Adelaide squats down in front of her and raises her hand, revealing a carabiner with a bunch of colorful keychains. Katie’s cries stop as she wipes the tears off her cheeks, her lips kicking up at the corners. “This one’s my favorite,” Adelaide says, and I find myself moving closer just to see. It’s a plastic toy made to look like one of those disgusting heart candies with words printed on it, and she shows Katie the sound it makes when it clicks.

Eyes narrowed, I mumble, “You just walk around with a bunch of fidget clickers?”

Adelaide faces me, no expression. “You don’t?”

I don’t even know what that means, and before I can think too much about it, she’s plastering on a smile and facing my niece again. “You want to show meyourfavorite?” she asks, offering them to Katie. There’s a gentleness in her tone, asoftness that has me wondering how she can fake it so well. With a suppressed sigh, I sit down next to Katie and watch her go through all the clickers, one by one, the entire time wondering if Adelaide reserves this side of her for crying little girls. Then I wonder if Adelaide was ever a crying little girl.

Probably not.

“This one,” Katie says, holding up an ice cream.

Adelaide removes it from the rest and hands it to her. “Then it’s yours.”

Katie claps her hands together, and I tell Adelaide, “You don’t have to give it to her.”

“I don’t mind,” she responds, shaking her head while refusing to look at me.

Ice cream fidget clicker now in possession, Katie holds it to my ear so I can hear theclicks. “That’s cool,” I murmur. “Do you have something to say?”

Katie looks from me to Adelaide. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Adelaide replies, then focuses on me. “And so areyou, by the way.”

I bite back a scoff. It’s not that I don’t appreciate what she’s doing; I just wish it was literally anyone else but her doing it. I focus on my niece again. “What do you want to do now?”

“Fish.”

It’s eleventy-three degrees out—the main reason we left the skate park—and I’d planned on spending the rest of the afternoon in the comfort of the air-conditioned studio. “Really?”

Katie nods, hopping off the couch to hug Adelaide’s neck. “She too.” Adelaide’s eyes widen at the sudden affection, but almost immediately hugs her back.

“We can fish,” I tell Katie. “But Adelaide has to work.”

Katie only hugs her tighter, repeats louder, “She come too.”

Five minutes later, we’re all on the porch while I slather sunscreen all over Katie. “All done,” I state, throwing thesunscreen in my backpack, along with some bottles of water. I put her hat on her head, then ask, “Shoes?”

“No.”

After taking her hand, I lead her toward the dock while Adelaide follows silently behind. Hopefully, we’ll get to the lake and she’ll make an excuse to leave. If not, I’m sure I can give her one.

“Uncle Twinny?” Katie asks.

“Yes?”

“Where’s other Uncle Twinny?”

“He has some work to do.”

“Like Mama?”

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