“Hi.” I shift in the seat, facing her. She swallows, and the smile that takes over my face is probably frightening, but I can’t help it. She reminds me so much of Madison, but her personality, her shyness—that’s me. She’s the embodiment of us both, and I can’t seem to look away from her. “What’s your name, sweetie?”
“A-Ava,” she stutters, still staring at me in awe.
“That’s a beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”
Her cheeks redden, but I see the stirrings of a smile on her face, and even though I have a list of things I should be doing, all I care about is making this little girl smile.
“What’s your name?” Her question is uttered so quietly, I have to bend to hear her.
“My name is Scarlett, but you know what? You can call me Mackenzie. Only the cool people get to call me by that name.” I shoot her a wink, and finally, that smile breaks free. The attendant at the table has finally noticed me but doesn’t seem to care that I’m talking with Ava, so I continue.
“You look like a princess, Mackenzie. I wish I could look like you.”
My heart flutters, and it takes all my willpower not to pull this little girl into my arms. Because it’s like a reflection of myself. She’s me.
“Why would you want that, Ava? You want to know what I think?” I whisper, leaning in as if I need to share a secret with her. She looks around to make sure no one is listening in before leaning into me. “I think you’re the prettiest one in the room tonight. But shhh, don’t tell anyone I said that. It might make the others sad.”
Ava looks down at herself in her blue dress that matches her eyes. Her long lashes cast shadows across her cherubic face, and her cute little face twists. “You really think so?”
When she looks back up at me, her nose wrinkles with distaste, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Oh, yeah. You’re absolutely glowing tonight, Ava. You’re the first one I noticed when I walked in.”
Those eyes widen again, but the smile that takes over her face is blinding.
“Are you having fun tonight?” As soon as I ask the question, the smile on her face dims. She looks down at the table, then toward the attendant who is still looking at her phone. Ava fidgets and looks back at me as though she’s afraid to say what she really wants to. I purse my lips, making a sudden decision. “Give me one second, sweetie.”
I push away from the table and walk around toward the attendant. She barely glances up at me, and when she does, she looks bored. She’d clearly rather be anywhere else than here, watching children.
“Would you mind if I take a walk with Ava? I promise we’ll come right back. I’m sitting right there at that table with my date.”
She shrugs. “Yeah.”
A frown mars my features, but I don’t say anything. I turn back toward Ava, rounding the table as I go. I stop in front of her and reach my hand out for her to take.
“Want to go for a walk with me, sweet Ava?”
She grins, eyes sparkling, and takes my hand. Her palm is tiny. Her small fingers tickle and curl around my hand, and I smile down at her as I weave through the tables and the patrons standing around chatting. When we first got here, I noticed outside the Beverly was a tree-lined view with twinkling lights and a fountain. As I suspected, the second we step foot outside, Ava gasps, her wide sparkling eyes taking everything in with a smile. I bet the poor girl doesn’t get out much.
“It’s so pretty,” she whispers.
We walk toward one of the benches surrounded by rosebushes and sit in front of a fountain.
“So you never answered me earlier. Are you having fun?”
Ava glances at me out of the corner of her eye and shrugs. It makes my heart hurt. She doesn’t act like a normal kid. She’s shy and reserved. It’s like she knows the people around her don’t care about her, and it breaks my heart.
“Not really,” she mumbles, swinging her legs on the bench. “Some of the older kids are mean. And this dress really itches.” She winces as she says it, and I bark out a laugh.
“I’m really sorry some of the other kids are mean, but want to know what I think? They’re bullies. Sometimes people bully others because they’re sad and unhappy, but don’t ever let it change who you are, because you, Ava, are as sweet as they come.”
“Did you ever get bullied?” she inquires, looking up at me with her blue doe eyes. I scoff, unable to help myself.
“All the time. All the time, sweet girl.” I tuck some of her soft curls behind her ear, and her smile comes back.
“Do you have kids?”
When I look at the expression on her face and light in her eyes, I already know why she’s asking.
My heart drops, and I shake my head. “No, I don’t, sweetie.”
“Do you want some?”
See what I mean? These aren’t questions a kid her age would normally ask.
“One day. When I meet the right person, I’d like to.”
Her smile drops, and she looks down at her lap. “Oh.”
“Hey,” I whisper, scooting closer. I gently place my hand under her chin, lifting her face back to mine. “Don’t do that. The family that chooses you is going to be lucky. The luckiest family in the world.”
Instead of the smile I was hoping for, tears glimmer in her eyes, and her tiny chin wobbles. “Bethany says I probably won’t find a family who will want me.”
My heart shatters. I trap my bottom lip between my teeth, trying to hold it together, so I don’t cry in front of this sweet little girl. I rapidly blink my eyes, keeping my tears at bay, and I slide off the bench. Gathering my dress, I shift, giving myself enough room to squat comfortably in front of her so our eyes are level. Taking her small hand in mine, I squeeze, and with the other hand, I caress the side of her face, brushing my fingers through her curls.
“Bethany doesn’t know what she’s talking about. If I could, I’d take you home with me because you, Ava, are a gem. A diamond in the rough.” Her mouth quirks at my Aladdin reference. “And like I said, the family who gets to keep you will be the luckiest family in the world.”
She sniffles. “I wish it was you.”
“I wish it was that easy, sweetheart. If I could, if that was an option for me, I’d choose you in a heartbeat, Ava. Because we’re one and the same.”
“You would?” she asks, surprised.
I laugh. “Of course, I would. You remind me of someone I knew. Of two people I knew, actually.”
“Who were they?”
A tear slips free without my permission, and as if she can’t stand the sight of it, Ava brushes it away with her little hand. “My sister. You look just like her. But you know what else? You remind me of me. I was just like you.”
“Where is your sister now?”
“She died,” I choke out, trying to pull it together. “But that was a long time ago, sweetheart.”
“Do you miss her?” She inquires in that sweet little voice.
“Every single day,” I whisper, twisting one of her curls.
We’re silent for a beat. Finally, Ava brings those sad eyes back to me. “Do you think I’ll ever see you again?”
I hope so. God, I hope so.