Page 91 of My Merry Mistake
She shakes her head again. “I was waiting for you.”
“Well, let’s go! Why are we standing around here?” He stands and says, “See, now I’m waiting for you, just standing here, lollygagging—” She laughs and grabs his hand, starting to pull him away. He glances at me. “Be right back.”
I nod, but as he’s tugged across the room, I move back toward the wall, watching the chaos and commotion of a space that feels like it’s meant to be a safe haven for these kids.
An older woman walks over, her eyes kind. “Hi there, welcome!”
I feel a little on display. “Hi . . .”
“Haven’t seen you around here before,” she says.
“Oh, I came with Finn—” I point in his general direction, but she doesn’t look away.
“Oh . . .?” She smiles. “He doesn’t usually bring friends.”
My gaze snags on him, across the room. “He comes here a lot?”
The woman laughs. “You could say that. I’m Tasha.” She points to another woman who is sitting at a table with three kids but looking our way. “That’s my sister, Toya.”
When I make eye contact with her, she frowns at me and looks away.
Tasha notices and gives me a sheepish smile. “She has a little crush on Finn.”
Toya has to be in her sixties.
“She’s probably a little jealous.” Tasha puts a hand on my arm and leads me around the room.
“Of me?” I laugh. “Unnecessary. Finn and I aren’t even really friends.” But as I say the words, they don’t feel true.
“Well, that’s a shame,” Tasha says. “He’s a great one to have.” She peers over at the area with the couches, where Finn lies on his stomach on the floor, reading a book with four young kids, including Amalia, who sits on his back reading over his shoulder.
I think I understand what she means.
“Wow. He’s good with them, huh?” I ask, even though the question doesn’t need an answer.
“The best.” She squeezes my arm. “These kids adore him.”
I wonder if this is the result of growing up in a big family. Not for the first time, I want to know more about him, his family, his house, his brothers and sisters. I wonder if it was anything like mine.
A little girl walks out from the kitchen. “Miss Tasha, the sandwiches are ready whenever you want to serve lunch.”
“Thank you, Grace,” Tasha says with a smile. Then to me, she adds, “Grace is our best helper. She always shows up with all her homework done and helps tutor the younger kids or get meals and snacks ready to serve.” She leans toward me. “She likes to be busy.”
Ooh. A kindred spirit. I smile at the girl. She gives me a stern look.
“Have you seen my brothers?” Grace asks. “Brady has a math test Monday, and he needs Miss Toya to explain fractions—” She looks at Tasha. “If he’s playing that stupid Nintendo—” She walks off, pushing through the door and out into the hall.
“She’s a little intense.” Tasha motions for me to follow her into the kitchen, where we see a tin of perfectly made sandwiches next to a basket of individually packaged chips and a tray of cookies. “Carries the weight of the world on her shoulders, that one.”
“What’s her story?” I ask.
Tasha walks over to an industrial-sized refrigerator. “Their dad is deployed right now, and Grace knows it’s hard on hermom. I think she’s trying to do whatever she can to lighten the load.” She pulls out a big metal tray with juice boxes neatly stacked inside. “She’s a good girl, but no one that age should have to feel that kind of responsibility.”
This hits me with a pang of nostalgia. I understand, maybe more than most, the weight that girl is carrying.
Tasha nods at the sandwiches. “Grab that?”
I pick up the tray, follow her to the counter behind the open window, and help as Tasha lays everything out. I go back for the cookies while she grabs the chips, then see Grace return with a dejected-looking dark-haired boy who looks a few years younger than her.
