She returned her gaze to me. “Do you want to marry Uncle Roman?”
Such a heavy question from such a little girl, and one I’d already been asked this evening several times. By Roman himself, by Julian, and now by Alice.
For each, my answer was the same. “No.”
Relief crossed Alice’s face. “Don’t marry him, Mommy…” She yawned, and at last her eyes started to drift closed.
“Why not?” I couldn’t resist asking.
As she snuggled in her pillow, she said, “The husband is supposed to make the wife smile…”
I watched her a moment, as her breathing evened out and sleep pulled her under. As she drifted off into dream world, I wondered why show had given her that idea about marriage, though I supposed it wasn’t a bad thing to learn.
Someday, I wanted Alice to only marry someone who would make her sm
