She thinks about it for a little while, patting her chin with her index finger. I enjoy the sight, trying hard not to smile. She is supposed to achieve that with her joke, which she is obviously trying very hard to come up with. So, I don’t want to ruin her moment of triumph.
“I got one,” she says with a sparkle in her eyes.
“I’m listening,” I tell her, leaning closer to her over the kitchen table. We’ve both forgotten all about the coffee and pancakes, focusing solely on each other.
“Why is six afraid of seven?” she questions me importantly, as if we’re discussing the fate of the world.
“Why… is six… afraid of… seven?” I repeat, accentuating every single word, which always amuses her. Then, I shrug helplessly. “I don’t know. Tell me.”
“Because seven ate nine!” she exclaims importantly, knowing that I won’t get it. I never do. I always pretend that I’ve forgotten it, then she explains, and we burst out into laughter. It’s my favorite joke, and we’ve been telling it for years now.
“Wait… seven… eight nine?” I frown, pretending that I don’t get it. “But you’re just counting. How is that a joke?”
“Silly daddy,” she says, shaking her head at me. “Because seven ate nine, you know like, yum, yum?”
“Oh!” I slap myself on the forehead, finally getting it. Then, as always, we both burst out into laughter. I watch her as she bares her little uneven teeth, with a hole in the bottom row. It makes her seem even cuter, if such a thing was even possible. I didn’t think it was, but I was proven wrong.
When she stops laughing, she looks at me. “Are you in a better mood?” she wonders.
“Always when I’m with you,” I assure her.
“Sometimes, you look sad,” she points out, half of her attention returning to the pancake.
I sigh. “It’s just grown-up stuff, sweetie. Not something kids should be thinking about.”
“Is Lilly thinking about grown-up stuff, too?” she asks with her mouth full.
“I guess,” I shrug. “She is a grown-up, too. Isn’t she?”
“Mhm,” Marley nods, still with her mouth full. She chews on the pancake vigorously, swallows, then continues. “She seems very sad sometimes, when she thinks I’m not looking. Then, when she catches me looking at her, she smiles, and it’s like that sadness was never there but I know it was.”
“You are a very cognizant little girl, do you know that?” I smile.
“What does congiznant mean?” she asks, mispronouncing the word, which makes me chuckle.
“Cognizant,” I repeat it slowly. “It means you pay very close attention to what’s going on around you.”
“Oh,” she says, her brows knitting, as if her brain needed a little more effort to memorize the new word. “I am.”
“You are,” I continue, nodding. “That’s probably why Lilly thinks it’s OK to get lost in sad thoughts when you’re not looking.”
“But I’m always looking,” she corrects me.
“I guess you are,” I laugh out loud this time, more and more amused by our conversation. At least she’s not asking me why I’m being moody all the time, because how can I tell my little girl the truth?
“She is so sad sometimes,” she repeats. “When she is like that, I give her a hug. She thinks I need a hug, so she hugs me back, but it’s her who needs it.”
Once again, my daughter’s powers of observation amaze me.
“Grown-ups just have a lot of things on their mind, and Lilly is not different,” I explain again.
I wonder if she’s thinking about what is happening to me. I know she shouldn’t. She shouldn’t be thinking about me at all, just like I shouldn’t be thinking about her either, but I can’t help it. Also, I know what is making her sad. We’ve never discussed her family issue, but I, of course, know that her father is in prison. A complicated case where his guilt is not really clear. I’m sure she thinks him innocent. I know I would also think the same way if that was my own father.
“I like when she laughs,” Marley says, shoving the last bite of her pancake in her mouth.
“Me, too,” I nod.
Maybe even too much. Right now, I can’t think about anything other than getting myself out of this mess I’m in. I have to focus on proving my innocence, or else, I can’t even imagine what might happen. I couldn’t care less about losing all my wealth. That’s not what I care about.