Page 50 of Promise Me Sunshine

“Let’s teach Miles how to take care of kids.”

“You and me?” she asks, looking at me suspiciously.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think you can teach that to a grown-up.” She rolls to her back and tosses a small handful of grass into the wind. It lands in a clump on my face.

“You definitely can!” I remove the clump of grass from my face and toss it onto hers.

She laughs and brushes it all away, spitting some out of her mouth. “What would I have to do?”

“Mmm. Hang out with him when you want to? Tell him if he’s being weird or awkward?”

She pulls a face. “That’s rude.”

“Not to him. He’ll appreciate the feedback.”

“He had this badminton idea that seemed fun,” she says with a shrug. “He brought a bunch of stuff over and put it in our closet. But then he never came to do it.”

And then what? What is he waiting for?

The next day I sidle up while he’s sorting Reese’s recycling.

“Hey, what’s the deal with the badminton thing?”

His brow furrows and the cans clank. “What do you mean? You were there at the store when we bought it all.”

“No, I know that. I mean what’s your plan for the whole thing?”

“Oh, nothing really. I showed her the stuff and said that I’m down if she ever wants. So…” He shrugs and starts breaking down a pizza box.

I take the pizza box and set it aside. “So, what?”

“So, the ball’s in her court.” He picks up another pizza box.

“The ball’s in her court? She’s seven.” I take that pizza box as well.

His brow is even more furrowed. “I take it I did it wrong?”

Impossibly, there’s now a third pizza box in his hands. I snatch that one too. “Good lord! How much pizza are they eating around here? No, you didn’t do it wrong. Just go do it better. Dig up the badminton stuff and knock on her door and invite her to the courtyard to practice.”

“Right now?”

“No time like the present. Carpe diem. Now or never. Et cetera, et cetera.”

He’s pausing, hands in his pockets.

“Go!” I command, and now I’m raising my arms like a mantis, ready to Karate Kid him into listening to me.

He’s got two hands up in surrender and is backing away. “Okay, okay. But if she says no, it’s your fault.”

Three minutes later I watch both of them file past the kitchen toward the front door. Miles is clutching all the badminton crap in one hand and carrying a sweatshirt for Ainsley in the other. She’s saying something to him and he doesn’t even glance my way, he’s listening so hard.

I can’t decide which one of them is cuter.

I get some pasta on the stove and am just dressing a salad when the front door slams open. I hear some clomping, a paper bag tear, and a bunch of somethings tumble to the ground.

“Shit.”

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