“Pumpkin, who are you talking to?”

She doesn’t answer.

“Caitly—”

“Nobody!” she answers in a chipper voice. “It’s okay, now!”

I’m about to ask her what she means when she says that it’s okay “now”, but she suddenly cries, “Arr! There be treasure in these caves, me-hearties!”

The boxes begin shaking as she crawls through them.

I shrug and go back to the Writing Room to finish unpacking.

*

After our productive day, it’s Chinese food for dinner.

Just like last night, Caitlyn sets the table while I pay the delivery guy, and also, just like last night, Caitlyn has set the table for three.

“Is your pirate friend going to join us this evening?” I ask.

“No.”

“Then, who is the plate for?”

“My friend. She might come down for dinner.”

“Oh …”

I take a spoon and start filling her plate with noodles, rice, and orange chicken. I know I said that I was going to give her some space with the ‘stories’, but I do want her to tone it down before she starts going to school. “Caitlyn, pumpkin, you know we really can’t do that once school starts, okay?”

“Do what?” she asks.

“The made-up stories.”

She stares at me as if it was an offensive suggestion and then shrugs.

We sit down and dig in.

Caitlyn struggles mightily with her chopsticks. I offered her a fork but she flatly refused. Towards the end of the meal, she’s finally starting to get the hang of it, once again proving that she’s inherited Nicole’s stubborn streak.

“How is your friend enjoying the meal?” I ask.

“Dad, she’s not here. She didn’t come down.”

“She doesn’t like Chinese food?”

“No. She’s hiding.”

I wait for her to elaborate but she goes back to struggling with the chopsticks.

“Listen, this is our last night of junk food,” I say, hefting the last of my sweet-n-sour pork from my chopstick to my mouth. “Tomorrow, we’re going to go to the store, explore the town, and visit your school, okay?”

She barely nods, concentrating on keeping her mouth steady as she inches her chopsticks towards her mouth. The bit of orange chicken slides back to her plate. She huffs in frustration and grabs the plastic fork on the table to finish the last of her food.

*