Staying with him
Esme appeared in the hallway behind Maya, biscuit in
hand, looking at them both on the front step with the
assessing quality of a three-and-a-half-year-old
encountering a situation she had not been briefed on.
What is wrong, Esme said.
Nothing is wrong, Maya said. Your cousin is coming.
Esme processed this. Where, she said.
She is coming in about eight months, Maya said. She
is very small right now.
Esme appeared to file this information, found it
acceptable, and returned to her biscuit and her
previous activities, which Maya had once described as
the remarkable equanimity of a person who trusted
the world entirely to sort things out without her
intervention.
Come inside, Maya said. I am goi
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