“Kids have wild imaginations, sweetie, you cannot take him seriously,” she said, her voice light and airy.
I did not answer right away, adjusting my wedding band with my thumb. On the windowsill sat a small, square glass bottle of cobalt blue drawing ink she must have brought over for her design work and left near the herbs.
“He was very specific, Ellie,” I said, keeping my head down as I lathered the soap on Will’s small hands.
“He is four, Marla,” she said, letting out a quick laugh. “Last week he told me he saw a giraffe in the driveway.”
She stretched her arm up to reach a
I smoothed the crumpled paper against the dark wood of the dresser, my thumb pressing down the crease where the bank’s blue logo was printed. The four thousand dollars was gone from our joint savings, leaving a balance that made my throat dry. I folded the statement into a small square and tucked it deep into my apron pocket, smoothing the fabric over it until it was completely hidden.
Through the bedroom window, the July crickets were already starting their low, rhythmic hum in the overgrown grass near the fence.
I walked down the hallway to the kitchen, where the heat from the oven still hung heavy over the yellow laminate counters. The forty-two dollar sheet cake, decorated with bright blue icing that matched the party balloons, sat on the counter next to a stack of paper plates. Ellie was standing by the double-bowl sink, her back to me, rinsing a plastic serving platter under the running tap. Gloria sat at the small breakfast table near the window, patting her neck with a damp lace handkerchief and looking at the cake with a critical frown.
“That icing looks like it has enough artificial dye to stain the kitchen table permanently, Marla,” Gloria said, her voice dropping into her usual soft drawl.
“The kids like the color, Gloria,” I said, keeping my hands tucked into my apron pockets so they would not see my fingers twitch. “Will wanted the blue tractor design, and they only do that with the bright gel.”
