She went inside to help with dinner.
But dinner wasn't even started yet. In fact, the kitchen looked like it was only half unpacked.
She blinked a few times...Stacy must be messing with her again. Had they lived here for years, or only just arrived?
She bit the bullet and went out to the side yard. "Stacy, where's Mom?"
Stacy gave her an innocent looking expression...probably fake. "Mommy went to get dinner. It's a special day...so we're having pizza!"
Samantha looked at her. "What's so special about it?"
Stacy giggled. "Dunno..just is."
Samantha frowned, and looked at her a bit suspiciously...she couldn't help it. "Stacy, if I asked you a question, would you promise to answer it for real? No pretending?"
Stacy looked at her. "Just one?"
"Just one," Samantha promised.
"Okay," Stacy said.
"Do you...care about what happens to me? I mean...for real, not pretend.And do I care about you...for real? Or is it just pretend?" Samantha asked.
Stacy seemed to spend time parsing the question. Samantha didn't blame her. She remembered, vaguely, asking more direct questions and it not going well. The only reason she didn't run was that part of her thought she and Stacy had a relationship...even if she wasn't exactly sure of what it was.
"Yes," Stacy said, very softly.
"But..." Samantha started.
Stacy interrupted her. "Mommy is gonna want you to set the table," she said. "She'll be home really soon."
What that meant really was that Stacy didn't want to say anymore. Samantha sighed and turned back to go set the table.
Stacy stood there for a few moments, watching her. She seemed to be thinking about something very hard. Then she resumed her playing.
