“But I don’t know what I want to wear then. That’s a different day.”

“I know—so this is how it works. For now.”

“This doesn’t match with my mask.”

“Everything matches with your mask. That’s how masks work.”

“It’s not denim, Mom!”

Izabel let out a single giant laugh and then started laughing so hard she could feel tears in her eyes. “Where did you learn that?”

“It was on one of your shows.”

“It was?”

Cami nodded.

Kaito came in the room. “Are you two okay?”

Izabel couldn’t stop laughing. Her sides were hurting now.

“Mommy thinks I told a joke.”

“But you didn’t?”

Cami shook her head.

Kaito kneeled at Cami’s feet and started to dress her.

“I told her this outfit doesn’t match my mask.”

“You’re right—that doesn’t sound very funny.”

Izabel was getting her breath back. “I said her mask matches everything!”

“That’s true,” Kaito said.

“And then Cami said, ‘It’s not denim!’”

Kaito smiled at Izabel.

“See. Daddy knows it’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny,” Kaito said.

“Maybe you had to be there.” Izabel felt herself getting annoyed.

“He was here,” Cami said.

“Not in the room,” Izabel said. “It’s an expression.”

Kaito nodded.

Cami looked satisfied with that. She always looked to him for the final say on a matter.

“Shoes next!” Cami yelled, and she ran out of the room.

Izabel wanted to scold Kaito for not backing her up better, for not laughing, for not telling Cami to trust what her mother says. But then he stood up and kissed Izabel on the forehead. He was sweet. He was kind. She didn’t want to have a fight over a feeling she couldn’t quite articulate.

At the front doors, Cami had put her shoes on the wrong feet. Izabel switched them. Next her coat went on. Then her backpack. Then her mask, down around her neck for now.

“Are we early?”

“A little,” Izabel said. “Is it joke time?”

Cami nodded.

Izabel brought out her tablet and opened a kids’ app that had a daily joke on its main page. “What color do cats like?”

“What?”

“Purrrrrple.”

Cami laughed. “I get it.”

“Yeah, you do.”

The doorbell went off. Izabel put Cami’s mask up, around her ears, under her eyes, pinched it over the bridge of her nose. She checked it, following its black border over her cheekbones. The emerald green covered her cheeks and continued down below her jaw. A small black circle of plastic sat to the left side of her mouth. From her eyes, she could tell Cami was smiling. Izabel hugged her.

“Have a great day at school,” Izabel said. And Kaito waved from the kitchen, where he was making coffee.