We head to paintball, where the kid who seemed coordinated last night ends up unable to fire a weapon and move at the same time. I haven't laughed this hard since before Mikael's death, and Todd leaves the two-hour event with a black eye, red and green paint in his hair and a huge grin.
"That was the best thing ever!" he exclaims happily.
"Is your sis going to let you come back?" I ask as we get into the truck.
"I hope so." He touches his eye. "Ow!"
"Ice and ibuprofen."
"Oh, I know. It's not the first time I've gotten beat up."
"You get bullied in school or something?"
"No." His expression grows shuttered for a moment before he brightens. "What's tomorrow?"
"Karate again."
"Awesome."
He subsides into texting, and I drive him home, amused, and drop him off.
I'm half afraid of what Claudia will say the next morning about bringing her brother home with a shiner. Baba doesn't go with me this time, and I wait for Claudia to lecture me or scold me or something about Todd's eye.
She brings me my usual with a quick smile. "Todd had a blast last night," she says.
"Your hair looks cute," I reply, eyes on the bun she's sporting in place of a ponytail. Her makeup is a tad heavier today, too. I can't think it's for me. She can't be rejecting me daily and more interested in her appearance for my sake, too.
"Thanks." She tucks the ever-present stray hair behind her ear, cheeks rosy. "I didn't have time to wash it this morning."
"No comment about his eye?"
"He's a boy who went to paintball," she replies. "I have no right to yell at you anyway. You're doing me a favor."
"It's not a favor. I enjoy spending time with him."
She lifts her eyebrows. "No one enjoys spending time with a fourteen year old."
I laugh. "All right. You caught me. I'm doing it for you."
"Eat your pie." She marches away.
"Dinner?" I call after her.
"Ask me tomorrow!"
Smiling, I watch the way her hips swing and admire the length of her legs before digging into my breakfast. I'd like to think this is a game of cat and mouse, that the stakes are nothing more than dinner. But I know better or at least, I suspect there's a lot more at risk for her than dinner.
I put on my scarf a short time later, ready to leave, when she returns with the portfolio Baba gave her yesterday. With some hesitation, she sits across from me, nibbling on her lower lip.