Page 102 of Dial L for Lawyer
"That was different?—"
"You said anything that might attract children and cause injury could be a liability issue."
Serena looks at me. "You taught a seven-year-old about premises liability?"
"Six," Michaela corrects. "I was six then. Now I'm?—"
"Seven and three-quarters," we say in unison.
The pizza arrives, and we eat while watching Michaela's approved shows—some animated thing about teenage spies that seems wildly inappropriate, but apparently David signed off on it.
"So," Michaela says during the credits, "when are you getting married?"
I nearly choke on my pizza. I was hoping we skipped this part. "What?"
"You and Serena. When are you getting married?"
"We're not—we just—" I look at Serena for help.
"We're dating," Serena says calmly. "Marriage is a big decision that takes time."
"Why?" Michaela asks. "You like each other, right?"
"Yes, but?—"
"And you're both old enough. Uncle Caleb is super old. Look at those wrinkles by his eyes."
"Those are called laugh lines, but thanks, kid."
"So why wait? In fairy tales, people meet and get married the same day."
"Fairy tales aren't real life," I point out.
"I know that. But still." She turns to Serena. "Do you want kids?"
"Michaela—"
"Because Uncle Caleb would be a good dad. He taught me to jump rope, tie my shoes, cross-examine witnesses, and make really good closing arguments."
"Those last two are definitely important parenting skills," Serena says, fighting a smile.
"Plus he's rich, so you wouldn't have to worry about money. My dad is rich, but he says Uncle Caleb is way richer than him."
"OK, that's enough," I say. "Time for episode two."
But Michaela's on a roll. "And he's not ugly. Hannah's mom—Hannah is my best friend—says he's a 'total smoke show,' whatever that means."
Serena bursts out laughing. "Hannah's mom has good taste."
"So you do think he's cute!"
"I do," Serena admits, winking at me. "He's very cute."
"Then you should marry him. I could be the flower girl. Or the ring bearer. Or the judge—I could get ordained online!"
"You're seven!"
"Seven and three-quarters! And the internet doesn't check ages."
