“Why are you wearing a costume?”
Frankie squishes her lips to one side while scrutinizing her uncharacteristic ensemble that’s currently being crushed by a child’s love. She gestures between herself and the other bridesmaids. “For… cohesion.”
My daughter gives her a questioning stare.
The redhead waves her raised hands, struggling in more ways than one. “It’s Paisley’s fault. She wanted us to match.”
A soft grin relaxes Ronnie’s features. “Paisley is Auntie Bee’s best friend.”
“Um, yep.”
“And she’s married to Brody.”
“That’s what I heard.” Frankie’s arms are still lifted at an awkward angle.
“He’s my first cousin, once removed. Auntie Bee is too.” Ronnie rises onto the balls of her feet to reach higher and then drops her voice. “She’s not really my aunt. It’s just a nickname.”
“Oh, okay?” The fierce redhead nods slowly as if reassuring herself. “That’s… interesting?”
“Uh-huh, and guess what?”
“What?”
Ronnie giggles. “Paisley moved into Brody’s room and turned everything pink! It’s soooo super pretty.”
Frankie’s wide stare studies her dress again. “Makes sense.”
I scrub a palm over my mouth to stifle a chuckle. These two are just too damn adorable. Ronnie hasn’t chatted this freely with anyone for months. The fact Frankie is floundering only adds to my entertainment.
My little girl suddenly gasps. “Do you wanna see my room?”
The woman still firmly in her clutches gulps audibly. “Umm…”
“You’re gonna come home with us, m’kay?”
“Oh, I don’t think so.”
Ronnie pouts. “Why not?”
Frankie looks at me as if I’m going to save her from this situation. I snort and cross my arms. Her mouth begins to move silently, forming a few words. If I’m reading her lips right, she’s going to kill me.
Her focus lowers to my daughter. “Uh, well… I’m a stranger? You shouldn’t invite strangers to your house.”
That triggers an immediate response. My polite little girl straightens and thrusts an open palm forward. “Hello. My name is Veronica Benson. You can call me Ronnie. I’m in kindergarten at Cloverleaf Meadows Elementary. It’s nice to meet you.”
The redhead gapes at her proffered hand before giving it a gentle shake. “Hi, Ronnie. My name is Francesca Keller. You can call me Frankie. It’s nice to meet you too.”
Ronnie appears very satisfied with the exchange. “Now you can see my room. We aren’t strangers anymore.”
Meanwhile, Frankie’s jaw is hanging slack. “How old are you?”
“Five, but I’ll be six in February.”
“You’re really smart, huh?”
My daughter crinkles her nose. “I dunno.”
“You are,” Frankie confirms. “Take my word for it, kid.”