The conversation shifted from there, and after just a few more minutes Anne began to make her excuses to leave. This proved to be Tarasa's cue to start whining to go visit a friend.
"But, you said, earlier, that I couldn't go to Mary's house because Miss Anne was coming," she pointed out peevishly.
"I was?" asked Anne as an aside to Mark.
"Have you ever said no?" he whispered back. She smiled and shook her head, then returned to listening to the discussion.
"Anne is leaving, so why can't I go, too?"
"Have you noticed that it is night now?" pointed out Kathryn.
"Her mom doesn't mind if I spend the night. You know that… I want to spend the night there!"
"No. If you wanted to spend the night, we would have needed to have this discussion earlier in the day."
"But earlier you said I couldn't go because Miss Anne was coming! That's not fair!"
"Sometimes life isn't fair, dear. It's dark out now, and I'll not have you walking to her place on your own."
"Uncle Mark can go with me."
"Uncle Mark is tired," she pointed out, having noted the amount of wine that he had drunk with dinner, and correctly surmising that his leg was paining him again.
"This sucks!" she wailed, with all the wounded dignity of the affronted teenager. "You hate me."
"I do not."
"You never let me have any fun."
"You just saw Mary three days ago."
"Four. That's ages and ages."
"I'm sorry. It's just too late." Kathryn shook her head indicating that the subject was closed. Tarasa stomped her foot and made to run from the room.
"I'll take her," volunteered Anne. "It's not too far to Mary's house, right?"
"Fifteen blocks, short ones, really quick honest honest honest," rushed out Tarasa, turning from her stomp to the doorway and moving to stand somewhere between her grandmother and Anne. She cast hopeful looks upon them both.
Kathryn turned to Anne. "You're sure you wouldn't mind? I know it's a bit out of your way."
Anne shrugged. "It's exercise. I sit behind a desk all day; I can use some."
"Well, let me call Mary's mom. No use you two walking over there to find that she can't stay."
Tarasa cheered and zipped from the room, rushing to pack an overnight bag.
Mark leaned over to Anne. "You spoil her."
"Not really. Spoiled children demand and scream and throw fits and pout and are generally obnoxious nuisances. She's still cute."
"You keep this sort of thing up and she'll just adore you."
Anne shook her head.
Kathryn got the okay only a few seconds before Tarasa ran back in the room, lugging an overstuffed bag behind her. "I'm packed!" she declared proudly.
"And you can go," affirmed her grandmother as she set the phone back in the cradle.
Anne and Tarasa made their hurried goodbyes, then all but dashed out the door and down the street. Anne slowed her pace as soon as they turned the corner, and Tarasa grudgingly matched her pace.
"Thank you," she said abruptly after a block.
"You're quite welcome."
A pause. "Why don't you marry Uncle Mark?"
"Because I love someone else."
"But you like him, right?"
"Of course I do. He's one of my best friends."
"And you like us, right?"
"I love you guys."
"So… isn't that enough?"
"For some people it is."
"But not for you?"
"I'm… a bit of a special case. See, I already have a boyfriend. I just haven't seen him for a long time."
"So how do you know he still likes you? Does he ever call?"
"No."
"Write?"
"Nope."
"Anything?"
"Not really."
"Is he still alive?"
"Yes."
"Oh. You sure?"
"Positive."
"Oh." A long pause. "I still think you and Uncle Mark should marry. Then you could live with us and never have to go back to your boring old apartment. And then I could go over to Mary's whenever I wanted."
"I'm sorry I inconvenienced you."
"It's ok. I get to go anyway. But Emily barely got to see you tonight. She likes you, too."
"I know. I'm sure I'll be back in a few days."
"Oh no!" Tarasa stopped.
"What?" Anne paused as well. "Did you forget something?"
"No, you did! You forgot to grab some leftovers!"
"Oh. Yes, I did, didn't I?"
"Now we'll be eating lasagna for a week."
"But it's good lasagna."
"Yuck. Maybe I can hide out at Mary's for awhile."
"You can try it, but I don't know how far you'll get."
"Any meal that isn't leftovers is a good meal."
They started walking again. A few minutes later, Anne passed her off to Mary's mother at their front door. They made very idle chitchat as the girls squealed, the sort of small talk one makes with a woman one doesn't know well. After seeing Tarasa settled in, Anne said her goodbyes and left.
The streets were nearly empty at that hour. It wasn't late, but the suns had set and the heat of the day was easing to a slight chill. Anne broke into a slight jog to get her heart beating. The streets she ran down were mostly residential, homes with happy and not-so-happy families silhouetted in the windows. She imagined living on one of these streets, a little house of her own with an equally little garden and a little family.
She could imagine a family in a very abstract sense, but any attempt to add Knives to the daydream shattered it completely. Still, it was a happy dream. They could have a pet, too, a cat to help keep the pest population to a minimum. It would be a pretty white cat, a female, a wonderful mouser who would settle into her lap as she unwound after a day at work.
She couldn't help but laugh at herself. What a strange thing for her to want. A home, a family, for her? Who would ever have dreamed it possible?