“How didyour political meeting go last night?” Evie asked as her mother entered the kitchen on Wednesday morning. She threw an egg on the griddle and popped bread in the toaster.
“Transformational.” Mavis boosted her solid frame onto a counter seat with a grunt. “I brought Larraine with me.”
Picturing that scene, Evie laughed. “The conflict between southern hospitality and bigoted horror must have blown their minds. How did that work out?”
“Most of the younger ladies politely asked questions about Larraine’s mayoral platform. The older ones went for the easy target of women not being qualified to deal with an all-male council.” Mavis sipped from the coffee she’d carried in with her.
“I betthatstuttered to a halt pretty fast once they remembered Larraine used to be a Larry. I’m imagining their heads twirling trying to process whether a woman in a man’s body can deal with men, of if they just gave up and admired her jewelry.” Evie plopped the egg and toast on a dish and set it in front of her mother with utensils. “Maybe familiarity can breed understanding instead of contempt.”
“Can we talk about my birthday party now?” Loretta asked from the breakfast nook. In her old-soul wisdom, the Indigo child accepted Larraine as just another adult. “Can we go to Disney World?”
“You just went to Harry Potter World a few months ago. That’s enough expensive travel. Besides, we couldn’t take all your friends to Disney. Don’t you want to have a party with friends?” Leaning her hip against the counter, waiting for the next wave of breakfast diners, Evie scooped up a spoon of her peaches and yogurt.
Loretta’s eyes widened. “We could have a real party? And I could invite everybody?”
Jax came down the stairs in time to catch this. He’d just showered and shaved and smelled masculine delicious, as well as looking suavely professional in his collared shirt and tie. The man disguised his superhero self extremely well, presumably to prevent scaring off clients. Suppressing a sigh of incredulity that he actually liked sleeping withher, Evie threw the prepared eggs into the pan and began scrambling them. ADHD had its benefits. She’d make a great short-order cook.
“Who iseverybody?” Jax asked, filling the coffee machine.
“All my friends.” Loretta scooped up her cereal, hunting down the strawberry bits. “I never got to have a real party.”
Evie raised a questioning eyebrow at Jax, who shrugged. “Her parents took her out to eat and bought fancy gifts.”
Her parents had died after Loretta’s tenth birthday. Evie winced and vowed to give her ward anything she wanted for this party. “So, what kind of party did you have in mind?”
“I’ll be eleven. That’s too old for ponies and bounce houses.”
“Huh, I didn’t think anyone ever got too old for those.” Evie tested Loretta’s declaration. Sometimes, kids twisted what they wanted with what they thought others wanted.
“I am,” she said most emphatically. “And my friends are.”
“You might want to determine who’s on the guest list,” Jax suggested,sotto voce, as he fixed his coffee.
“ESP, I already know,” she whispered back, dishing up eggs scrambled with veggies and cheese and handing it to him.
Loretta had enchanted a wide range of people in her few months in Afterthought. Indigo children had that ability—when allowed to express themselves, instead of being bundled up in uniforms and forced into niches too small for their expansive souls.
“Could I still have birthday cake?” Loretta asked uncertainly.
“Definitely. Three kinds, if you like, plus all the ice cream everyone can eat. We could probably even make homemade ice cream. Adults like that.” Evie leaned against the counter to finish her peaches and think about what she would have loved at that age, just starting middle school and wanting to be a grown-up. “How about music? Would you like a dance party?”
Loretta’s crystal blue eyes grew wide. “Could I? With real music?”
“Real music as opposed to what?” Jax had to ask. “Croaking frogs?”
Evie swatted him. “DJ or a band?”
“I could have a realband?” Loretta asked in awe. “A real one? Like on YouTube?”
“The Home Boys play parties,” Mavis suggested, finishing her egg and toast. “But you’d have to book them pretty fast. Half of them leave for college in a few weeks.”
“But I don’t dance.” Loretta’s face fell.
“At your age, no one does.” Thinking of all the guests Loretta would undoubtedly invite, Evie had a brainstorm. “We can bring in a line-dancing instructor!”
Loretta looked as if she’d died and gone to heaven. Evie memorized that look. In a few years, the kid would be a teenager and scorn everything suggested.
Reuben arrived just as Evie made her suggestion. “Line dancing? You ain’t gonna get no Black folk around here line dancing.”