“There is this block party happening downtown. I was going to go later to see the fireworks but you and I could both use some cotton candy and laughter.” I hooked my arm around hers and grabbed Taigi’s leash, dragging us out of my apartment.
She held on to me tightly, and when we got on the elevator she put her head on my shoulder.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
“For what? I haven’t even done anything yet.”
“For not telling me to leave him. I know you aren’t fond of Nathaniel, so thank you for not using this as an opportunity to say so,” she muttered softly, watching the numbers decrease as we went down.
I wasn’t sure if I liked her thanking me for that. I wanted to say the same thing I’d said to her when I first met him: Nathaniel was a spoiled mama’s boy. He should have stood up for her and her family. The fact that he hadn’t pissed me off. Our families were one of the things that defined us. But if I had told her all that, I could just see our past fight playing out again and us ending up going separate ways. She was marrying him. She was making that choice, and I knew I’d rather be on her side when she needed my help than not speak to her.
Sometimes the best thing you could do for a person was just be there, no matter the circumstances.
Kind of like how Eli was.
Eli
I knew about as much as an ant when it came to little girls. The block party was filled with little children and their parents, balloon toys, and clowns. When I’d offered to bring her there, I wasn’t really sure what to expect, but her being quiet, sitting in her wheelchair, holding her stuffed bear was definitely not it.
“Molly? Are you all right?” I asked, kneeling in front of her. She put her chin on top of the teddy bear’s head. “Do you want to go back to the hospital?”
“No!” She looked like she was going to cry, which caused a few parents to turn to look at us.
“Okay, we don’t have to go back. I’m just asking because you don’t look like you’re having fun.”
“I’m having fun,” she lied.
This was the worst idea.
“Eli?”
Turning around I came face to face with Guinevere, wearing jean shorts and a red shirt and cardigan, her camera around her neck and fresh cotton candy in her hand. She looked…just like I would picture Guinevere to look. Molly grabbed my hand, hiding her face behind it.
“Hello?” Guinevere smiled at her.
“Guinevere, this is Molly, a patient of mine. I brought her here while her father went out to work.” I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to explain that to her.
She ignored me anyway, looking to Molly and crouching down. “Have we met before, Ms. Molly?”
Molly squeezed her bear and Guinevere snapped her fingers and smiled. “I remember now. You were the girl who almost ran me over when I moved into the building. Your dad’s name is T…”
“Toby,” I answered for her.
“That’s right, Toby Wesley. It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Molly. You ran so fast last time I wasn’t able to say hi. You can call me Gwen. My name is Guinevere, but my friends call me Gwen.” She held out her hand and Molly looked at it for a long time before shaking it.
“Do you want some cotton candy?” she asked her.
“No,” I said quickly and Gwen looked up at me. “Too much sugar isn’t good for her right now.”
“Oh, well too much sugar isn’t good for me either,” she replied, walking over to the trash can and throwing it away before coming back to Molly.
Molly’s eyes stared all over her face, and for a split second it looked like she was trying to tell her something in some secret girl code beyond my knowledge.
“Molly, you guys wait here for a second. I will be right back okay? No running off.” She held her hands out as if that would hold us in place. “If Eli tries to run, kick him.”
Molly giggled and nodded.
“Don’t teach violence!” I yelled after her as she ran to wherever it was she was going. She stuck her tongue out like a child, almost tripping over a stroller, much to a nanny’s dismay. Molly giggled as the older woman waved her finger at her and Guinevere apologized, running off farther.
“Molly, when you grow up, try to be just a tad more graceful than Guinevere, okay?”
She looked up to me, tilting her head to the side. “Isn’t she your friend?”
“Huh?”
“She said her friends call her Gwen. You don’t call her Gwen.”
She was a sharp little one…and the way she looked at me waiting for an explanation, I knew I couldn’t lie to her.
“We are friends, but I like calling her Guinevere more than Gwen,” I replied.
“Why?”
Molly, I don’t know. “Because Guinevere is a pretty name.”
“I like it too! I will call her Gu…in…ev…ere.” She struggled on it for a minute.
“Guinevere,” I said slowly again for her.
“Guin…evere,” she repeated, and I nodded.