I know I had plenty of laughs with Anabelle, but I’m not sure it’s happened since.
I smile to myself and suppress a few more giggles as I work. Maybe there will be more laughter again soon.
Eleven
Rachel
I shoo Ana out of the kitchen. I start heading upstairs with her.
I can’t believe she started singing that song while Tiffany and I were doing dishes. It’s so embarrassing. I want to scold her, but I guess now I know I’m not crazy for thinking something is there.
When she settles back into bed, she has a huge smile on her face. I can’t punish her when she looks so happy.
“Ana,” I say, trying to sound stern. “Do you know why what you did was wrong?”
She giggles in response. This kid is going to be the death of me.
“Ana, honey, I don’t want you to get your hopes up about something that isn’t going to happen,” I explain. “Life isn’t always like it is in your cartoons.”
“But my mom is happy,” she says. “And people who make each other happy should be together!”
I pause for a moment. I can’t exactly argue with that logic.
“That’s true, but making each other happy doesn’t necessarily mean people will be good as a couple. Friends make each other happy too!”
“So you just want to be friends with mommy?”
Well, that’s not necessarily true, but I can’t tell her that.
“I want you and your mom to be happy. I’m happy that I get to hang out with you, kiddo.”
“You should marry her,” she insists. “I want mommy to be happy. You make her happy.”
I try not to blush. Maybe I should be asking Ana for dating advice. She seems to have this all figured out.
“Sorry to disappoint you, kiddo, but it’s not going to happen. B
ut your mommy is happy and we can hang out together and have a good time.”
“She’s happier when she’s with you. She’s around more when you’re here.”
My heart skips a beat. I wonder if that’s really the case.
In any case, I have to shut this down.
“Good night, Ana. Sleep tight and dream about someone else you can play matchmaker with.” I reach out and ruffle her hair.
She giggles and gets settled into bed. I go to turn off the light. She starts humming the song again.
“Ana!”
She giggles and stops. I sigh and turn the light out. I shut the door behind me.
I head back downstairs to Tiffany. She’s finishing up the washing. She turns and smiles at me.
Her face is red, but she doesn’t look embarrassed. I feel myself getting flustered.
Ana is right. She does look happy. Could this really all be because of me?