Until then, though, I have to share him with Riley, who is in her element during dinner. Her usual audience has doubled, a fact that isn’t lost on her as she monopolizes the table. She plays up to my old boyfriend as only a six-year-old girl can, giggling and flirting shamelessly, so confident that both of us hang on her every word, even if all she wants to talk about are those stupid ponies. She loses me the moment she tries to explain the convoluted relationships she imagines between her toys, and more than once, Derek and I exchange amused looks while she rambles on unaware. How she manages to eat and talk at the same time is beyond me.
When she finally stops to take a breath, I jump in. “You ready for dessert?” I ask Derek, whose plate is empty after two helpings of everything.
Riley
