Page 3 of The Sweet Part
I frown. “Sophie, Mason was very generous to give you his autograph and this nice drawing. Don’t keep asking him for things.”
She clasps her hands together, careful to keep the napkin flat between them. “Ple-eeze, ple-eeze, ple-eeze.”
So not happy with the begging. I’m about to say we need to go when Mason says, “We only film in the spring. Sorry. The rest of the time I’m just a boring mechanic.”
“Spring comes after winter,” she tells me. “It’s winter, spring, summer, fall, winter, over and over.” She turns to him and says proudly, “I know my seasons, how to write my name, and I can read.”
“Whoa!” he says.
She nods vigorously. “I’ve been reading since I was three. Sometimes I read to my class at circle time.”
“Now that’s impressive.” He actually sounds sincere.
She preens and tosses her pigtails back over her shoulders. “I’m going to learn to ride a bike soon. Mommy says in the spring, so that’s two things I’m doing in the spring. The other one is Easter.” She throws her arms wide. “I can’t wait for spring!”
“Exciting stuff,” he says. “Easter Bunny and all that.”
She glances at me before telling him, “If I don’t get what I want for my birthday, I’ll ask the Easter Bunny.”
“Or the Tooth Fairy,” he says.
She puts her signed napkin on the bar and tries to climb onto a stool. I give her a boost. “What’s the Tooth Fairy do?”
He checks in with me, and I incline my head. “When you get a loose tooth, it’ll eventually come out. Then you put the tooth under your pillow, and the Tooth Fairy takes it and leaves you money.” I hold up one finger behind her back. “Like a dollar.”
Sophie covers her mouth. “But I like my teeth.”
“It’s just the baby teeth that come out,” I reassure her. “That’s to make room for your bigger, grown-up teeth. Like mine.”
I bare my teeth at her to show her my big teeth. Mason and Alice do too.
Sophie gazes at Mason adoringly. “You know everything. When I blow out the candles on my birthday cake, I’m gonna wish foryouto be my daddy.”
Mason’s jaw drops. I freeze, mortified.
“Oh boy,” Alice says under her breath.
“Sophie, we should get back home,” I say. “It’s getting late.”
“I have to go to the bathroom,” she announces, leaning toward me with her arms outstretched. I help her down from the bar stool, and she dashes to the ladies’ room.
“I’ll go with her,” Alice says, sending me a sympathetic look.
He glances around, jerking his chin at an older man looking at us. Oh, it’s his dad, Parker Shaw. Mason continues looking everywhere but at me.
I give him a wry smile. “Santa didn’t bring her a daddy, so I guess she’s moved on to the next holiday. Next she’ll write a letter to the Easter Bunny.” I laugh, trying to make light of it.
He doesn’t laugh.
I get serious. “Her dad died when she was two. She doesn’t remember him.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.” I carefully put Sophie’s autographed napkin in my purse and toss back the rest of my wine. “I guess she feels left out now that she’s in kindergarten and found out all her friends have dads.” I sigh. “When she realized she was the only one who didn’t, she decided to do something about it. She’s very persistent.”
He nods.
I exhale sharply. “Anyway, I don’t date, so she just has to get her head around the fact that a daddy isn’t a gift that magically appears.”
