She mouthed it along with him. “It sounds like a Dr. Seuss word! Or like those things grown-up ladies wear to keep their bellies smushed in that Kayla sells in her store.”
“Whatthe... do you mean Spanx?” Eden guessed, stifling a burst of laughter. Proof positive right there that little kids were sponges and overheardeverything.
“Yeah. Those! What’s a phalanx?”
“It means a row of soldiers, a line of defense,” Jasper told her. “Phalanx.”
“Ohhhhh.” She silently mouthed the word again. “Mr. Caldera was a soldier, did you know?”
A beat of silence.
“Uh, yeah. It might have come up.” Jasper shot Eden a baleful look.
“I wonder if he was a phalanx, too.”
“Well, it’s more something you’re apartof, rather than something you are,” Jasper tried.
“Wereyouever a soldier?”
Dead silence for a good two seconds.
“Er, no. But I did sell out Madison Square Garden.” He rummaged in his pocket. “Here, here’s a guitar pick for you. It has my name right on it!”
“But I thought you didn’t have a garden.”
“Um... it’s a different kind of garden. Instead of flowers it’s a stadium with screaming, adoring people in it who came to hear me sing and play music.”
Eden fixed him with a meaningful stare in the hopes he’d get his bristly ego smoothed down.
Throughout all of this, Annelise was doing a lot of staring, fascinated and bright-eyed and a little bemused, not entirely flattering. The kind of staring she often did right before she announced something like, “Mom, do you know you have a hair growing out of your chin?”
Jasper, who one would think would be accustomed to being stared at, seemed a little disconcerted by the perusal.
But Gabewascoming up a little more than Eden preferred, or expected. And she had a hunch Gabe wasn’t just under her skin, he’d lodged under Jasper’s, too.
And it was pretty clear that Annelise had someone like Gabe in mind when it came to a father type, and she was trying to reconcile the two men in her head, like a little accountant.
And Jasper was clearly trying to impress a ten-year-old, something he’d likely never had to deliberately do in his whole life.
“Ooooh,” Annelise crowed delightedly. “Screaming fans!” She was authentically wowed by the idea of an audience, because she frankly loved an audience. Jasper smiled, mollified and relieved.
“Okay. Well, we can play Phalanx with my Barbies, and your Ken doll can pretend they’re all soldiers. Andthenwe can play your thing. Your Madison Garden thing. And these are my Barbies! This one is named Coconut and this is Judith and this little one is Ariel, this is Winter, this is Ken, but today I call him Phil. Here, you be Phil.”
She pressed the half-dressed Ken doll into Jasper’s hand. Jasper gave a start.
“Whoa! This dude has quite a package.”
“Don’t be scared! It’s easy to make him modest. Here are his favorite pants.” Annelise handed him a pair of brown pants. “They’re brown because he works for UPS, like Jeffrey who comes into my mom’s store and hangs out longer than he should.”
Jasper clutched the Ken doll and darted a look at Eden that was reminiscent of a guy tied to a post in a basement that was rapidly filling with water.
Eden was conscious that she’d been standing back like Jane Goodall observing the interactions of primates. And part of that was to make a possibly unworthy-of-her point: children are dazzling, and children are effort, and sometimes children are boring. But they’re always worth it.
Just exactly what Gabe had said.
“Annelise, why don’t you show Jasper your guitar. I’m not sure he’s in the mood to play Barbies. You probably got your own musical talent from him.”
“Okay!” Annelise said brightly. “This is my guitar.” She retrieved her three-quarter kid-sized guitar from its stand.