Any time you want to talk.'
'I'll bet.' She grinned. 'I'll just bet. You and me talkytalking-wouldn't that be a hoot?'
She slapped me lightly on the back and turned around. I stepped out onto the patIo.
Cassie looked at me, then returned to the naked doll. She was barefoot and had on red shorts and a pink T- shirt patterned with silver hearts.
Her hair was topknotted and her face was grimy. She appeared to have gained a little weight.
Cindy uncrossed her legs and stood without effort. She wore shorts, too. The skimpy white ones I'd seen at her house, below a white T-shirt. Her hair was loose and brushed straight back from her forehead. She'd broken out a bit on her cheeks and chin, and tried to patch it with makeup.
'Hi,' she said.
'Hi.' I smiled and got down on the ground with Cassie. Cindy stood there for a moment, then walked into the house. Cassie turned to watch her, lifted her chin and opened her mouth.
'Mommy'll be right back,' I said, and lifted her onto my lap.
She resisted for a moment. I let go. When she made no attempt to get off, I put one hand around her soft little waist and held her. She didn't move for a while; then she said, 'Ho-ee.'
'Horsey ride?'
'Ho-ee.'
'Big horsey or little horsey?'
'Ho-ee.'
'Okay, here we go, little horsey.' I bounced her gently. 'Giddyap.'
'Gi-ap.'
She bounced harder and I moved my knee a little faster. She giggled and threw her arms up into the air. Her topknot tickled my nose on each assent.
'Giii-ahp! Giii-ahhp!'
When we stopped, she laughed, scrambled off my lap, and toddled toward the house. I followed her into the kitchen. The room was half the size of the one on bunbar Drive and furnished with tiredlooking appliances. Vicki stood by the sink, one arm elbow-deep in a chromium coffeepot.
She said, 'Well, look what the wind blew in.' The arm in the pot kept rotating.
Cassie ran to the refrigerator and tried to pull it open. She wasn't ? successful and began to fuss.
Vicki put the pot down, along with a piece of scouring cloth, and placed her hands on her hips. And what do you want, young lady?'
Cassie looked up at her and pointed to the fridge.
'We have to talk to get things around here, Miss Jonesy.'
Cassie pointed again.
'Sorry, I don't understand pointy-language.'
'Eh!'
'What kind of eh? Potato or tomato?'
Cassie shook her head.
'Lamb or jam?' said Vicki. 'Toast or roast, juice or moose?'
