“Ma’am, do you mind smoking away from the animal?” The handler, a balding man with thick eyebrows and his polo shirt buttoned up his neck, is too quiet for Mrs. Keller, who is already backing up onto the porch to survey the view.

“What do you think?” She doesn’t look at Annie when she asks, as if the question is for the trees, the lake, the ground that is soon to be mottled with little children’s feet, littered with food, bits of streamer, snot and vomit from some wayward kid.

Annie answers anyway. “It’s beautiful. She’ll love it.” And she means it, because when she looks at Mrs. Keller, skin drooping off her bones, lipstick cakey on cracked lips, her hair so lank and dull, she feels a pinch between her eyes, a strong but brief prick of pity. Maybe, in this moment at least, Mrs. Keller does love Suzy enough.

“I wouldn’t call it beautiful. The bouncy castle could’ve used another douse with a hose. And the magician has a little wear and tear. But thanks. Hope she remembers it.”

And then it’s time to pick up Suzy at school, an hour early so she can change and wait for the six or so cars that are shepherding all fifteen kids to the house. Annie gets Suzy into the little smocked dress Mrs. Keller picked out for her, golden with a daffodil-embroidered skirt, and pulls her hair back in two pigtails.

“And now, before you go down and see all your friends, a present from me!” But Suzy is distracted, twirling her dress in the mirror by her bed, giggling at her reflection, putting one small hand to the glass as if to say hi.

“Suzy?”

“Party’s downstairs!” she squeals instead of answering, rushing to open the door, reaching her arms up to turn the knob.

“Did you hear what I just said?” Annie feels the undulation of her voice in her throat before she registers the tone, feels the echo of it as Suzy turns around, head cocked, confused more than fearful.

But it works. She comes toward Annie. Outside, they can hear car doors shutting, kids screaming as they notice the pony, exasperated parents and nannies telling their charges to wait up.

Annie slips a box out of her pocket, rainbow-hued and cardboard, a lavender bow tied around it. “Open it. Go on.” Suzy takes her time, struggling with the bow, until the top of the box comes flying off, hurtling across the room. She looks at the soft cotton inside.

“That’s shiny.”