“No reason,” I say quietly, pulling my hands out of his grasp. “I was just wondering, that’s all.”

His expression softens slightly. “Nora…”

I lean in, but before he can continue, we’re interrupted by a burst of childish laughter. A tiny girl with blond pigtails waddles toward us, a large green ball clutched tightly in her chubby hands.

“Catch!” she shrieks, launching the ball at Julian, and I watch in amazement as Julian extends his hand to the side and deftly catches the awkwardly thrown object.

The toddler laughs in joy and waddles toward us faster, her short legs pumping as she runs. Before I can say anything, she’s already at our bench, grabbing Julian’s legs as casually as if he were a tree.

“Hi,” she drawls, giving Julian a dimpled smile. “Can I please have my ball back?” She pronounces each word with a clarity that would do an older child proud. “I want to play more.”

“Here you go.” Julian smiles as he hands it back to her. “You can definitely have it back.”

“Lisette!” A harried-looking blond woman jogs up to us, her face flushed. “There you are. Don’t bother these strangers.” Grabbing the child by the arm, she gives us an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry. She ran off before I could—”

“No worries,” I reassure her, grinning. “She’s adorable. How old is she?”

“Two-and-a-half going on twenty,” the woman says with visible pride. “I don’t know where she gets it from; God knows her dad and I barely finished high school.”

“I can read,” Lisette announces, staring at Julian. “What about you?”

Julian moves off the bench and crouches down on one knee in front of the girl. “I can too,” he says gravely. “But not everybody can, so you’re definitely ahead of the game.”

The toddler beams at him. “I can also count to a hundred.”

“Really?” Julian cocks his head to the side. “What else can you do?”

Seeing that we don’t mind the child’s presence, the blond woman visibly relaxes and lets go of her daughter’s arm. “She knows all the words to that Frozen song,” she says, smoothing the child’s hair. “And can actually sing along.”

“Can you really?” Julian asks the little girl with apparent seriousness, and she enthusiastically nods before belting out the song in a high-pitched, childish voice.

I grin, expecting Julian to stop her at any moment, but he doesn’t. Instead, he listens attentively, his expression approving without being patronizing. When Lisette finishes with the song, he applauds and asks her about her favorite Disney movies, prompting the child to launch into excited chatter about Cinderella and The Little Mermaid.

“I’m sorry,” her mother apologizes to me again when Lisette shows no signs of stopping. “I don’t know what’s come over her today. She’s never this chatty with strangers.”

“It’s okay,” Julian says, rising fluidly to his feet when Lisette pauses to catch her breath. “We don’t mind. You have a wonderful daughter.”

“Do you have any children of your own?” Lisette’s mother asks, smiling at him with the same adoring expression as her daughter. “You’re so good with her.”