Page 77 of Wreckage and Rain

"Wucy making Sam pretty."

"I'm already pretty."

"Not pretty 'nuff." She works the crayon up to my elbow with the seriousness of a surgeon. "Corner lady is pretty. Corner-watching man pretty too. Now."

I go still.

"Corner-watching man?"

"You watch corner lady from corner of bar. Wucy sees."

Marisol snorts so hard she has to set her eyeliner down. "She's been workshopping that one all week."

I sit very still on the dressing room stool while a two-and-a-half-year-old paints me into the supporting cast of her own private show. Corner-watching man. Caught and named by the smallest, most observant person in the building.

"SHNAKE," Lucia announces, putting the finishing touch on a green spiral on my forearm.

"Lucia. That's not a snake."

"Is a shnake."

"It's a spiral."

"Spiral shnake."

Marisol caps her eyeliner. Turns. "Sam. Be careful."

"With Lucia?"

"With Summer. With whatever you guys are doing." Her eyes are direct. Marisol's default setting. "She's in love with someone else. You know that."

"I know."

"And you're okay with it?"

I look at the green crayon on my arm. Lucia's shnake.

"Mostly. She's not mine to want. She matters to me anyway."

Marisol watches me. Then nods. "Good man. Stupid. But good."

"SHNAKE," Lucia confirms from my lap.

***

After the show, late, on the couch in my office, Summer and I are eating dumplings and she says it like she says important things: without buildup.

"Bex asked me to perform. One number for a three minute set."

"What did you say?"

"That I'd think about it. Which is a lie. I've been thinking about it nonstop. I just don't want to commit out loud because then it's real."

"What scares you about it?"

She thinks. Chews. "Being seen. Which is ironic. But the audience is anonymous. The stage is naked."

"You won't literally be naked."