"Grown-ups always say that when they don't want to explain things."
She’s not wrong. "Some things are hard to talk about."
"Like why you're marrying Keira if you don't like her?"
Fucking hell, she’s blunt. I flip the sandwich, buying time. "What makes you think I don't like her?"
"Because you make her sad on purpose." Brigit says this matter-of-factly. "And you don't smile at her like people who love each other do."
I slide the grilled cheese onto a plate and ladle soup into a bowl, setting both in front of Brigit thinking this could be a perfect opportunity to find out what other people, or man, loves Keira.
"You know," I say casually, leaning against the counter, "it sounds like you care about Keira a lot."
Brigit nods, dunking the corner of her sandwich into the soup. "She's the best person ever."
"Does she have other people who care about her that way? People who love her?"
Brigit considers this while chewing. "Nanny Fiona loves her. They talk all the time."
"Anyone else?" I press, keeping my tone light. "Maybe a special friend? A man who visits her?"
She shakes her head. "No men. Just me and Nanny."
I try a different angle. "Does Keira ever go out at night? Or have someone call her on the phone that makes her smile?"
"No." Brigit looks up, her eyes suddenly concerned. "Is that why you're marrying her? Because no one else loves her?"
The question catches me off guard. "What? No, that's not?—"
"Because I love her enough," Brigit continues earnestly. "She doesn't need anyone else. She has me."
The fierce protectiveness in her voice strikes me. There's something about the way this child talks about Keira. I’m no expert, but my sense is that kids feel strong bonds toward those who care for them. Hampton and Lana are her godparents, but she hasn’t asked about them. Only Keira.
"How long have you known Keira?" I ask.
"Forever," Brigit answers simply.
No lover. No mysterious man. Just this little girl and her nanny. So why was Keira sneaking around the other night? What is she hiding?
“Why are you so mean all the time?”
Her question snaps me out of my thoughts. “I just made you food. That’s not mean.”
She rolls her eyes. “To Keira. Why don’t you like her?”
I’m not sure what’s appropriate to share with a kid. "Sometimes, people can have complicated feelings for each other. Sometimes, they do things that make you angry."
"But doesn't being angry all the time make you unhappy too?"
The simple wisdom in her question stops me. Does it? Have I been unhappy, carrying this burden of hatred and revenge? I hadn’t been up until Keira came back into my life.
"You're pretty smart for a kid, you know that?"
She grins. "Keira says I'm an old soul."
"She might be right about that."
She finishes her food. “Thank you. It was good, even if you didn’t cut the sandwich into triangles like I like.”
