Paper Wedding, Best-Friend Bride

“Yep.” The child’s chest heaved with excitement, with more laughter. Then he said to Lizzie, “Know what? This is an orange-fan-age.”

She smiled, amused by his pronunciation of it.

“Know what else?” he asked. “My real mommy is gone, but I’m going to get ’dopted by a new mommy. And a daddy, too.”

Overwhelmed by how easily he’d rattled that off, she couldn’t think of anything to say. She should have been prepared for a conversation like this, knowing what she knew about him, but she couldn’t seem to find her voice.

But that didn’t stop him from asking her, “Why are you at the orange-fan-age?”

“Because Max wanted me to meet you.”

Tokoni reached out to touch her hair, locating a strand that had come loose from her ponytail. “How come?”

“Because of how much he likes you.” She released the air in her lungs, realizing that she’d been holding her breath. “And because I’m going to write a story about the orphanage and the kids who live here.”

“Can I be a superhero in it?”

Oh, dear. “It’s not that kind of story.”

He was still touching her hair. “It could be.”

No, she thought, it couldn’t. She wasn’t good at writing fiction. She’d always been a reality-type gal.

“Come on, buddy,” Max said, redirecting Tokoni’s attention. “Let’s all go over here.” He carried him to the sofa and plopped him down.

Lizzie joined them, with Tokoni in the middle. She fixed her hair, tucking the loose strand behind her ear.

“I made a book of the mommy and daddy who are going to ’dopt me,” he said to her. “I can show it to you.”

“Sure,” she replied, trying to be as upbeat about it as he was.

Tokoni climbed off the sofa and dashed over to a plastic bin that had his name on it. There appeared to be personalized bins for all the children, stacked in neat rows.

He returned and resumed his spot, between her and Max. He showed her a handmade booklet, consisting of about ten pieces of white paper with staples in the center holding it together.

He narrated each picture, explaining the activity he and his future parents were engaging in. On page one, they stood in the sun. On page two, they swam in the ocean. In the next one, they were going out to dinner, where they would eat all of Tokoni’s favorite foods.

Everyone had red smiles on their faces, black dots for eyes and no noses. Dad was the tallest, Mom was wearing a triangle-shaped dress and Tokoni was the only one with hair. His folks were completely bald.

Lizzie assumed it was deliberate. That Tokoni hadn’t given them hair because he didn’t know what color it should be. He obviously knew that he might be adopted by people who looked different from him. Blonds, maybe? Or even redheads?

She fussed with her hair, checking the piece she’d tucked behind her ear, making sure it stayed put.

“Your book is wonderful,” she said. “Your drawings are special. The best I’ve ever seen.” She didn’t know much about kids’ art, but his work seemed highly developed to her, with how carefully thought out it was.

He flashed a proud smile and crawled onto her lap. She went warm and gooey inside. This child was doing things to her that she’d never felt before.

He said, “You can color inside my book if you want to.”

Heavens, no, she thought. As flattered as she was by his generous offer, she couldn’t handle the pressure that would cause. “That’s very nice of you, but I don’t think I should.”

He persisted. “It’s okay if you don’t color very good. I’ll still let you.”

Her skills weren’t the problem. “I just don’t—”

Max bumped her shoulder, encouraging her to do it. Damn. Now how was she supposed to refuse?

“All right,” she relented, her stomach erupting into butterflies. “But I’m going to sit at one of the tables.” Where she could concentrate. “And I’ll need some crayons.” She didn’t mention that she’d brought new art supplies for Tokoni and his peers, because it was up to Losa to distribute those.

After Tokoni got the crayons, he scooted next to her at the table, directly at her elbow and making it difficult for her to work. But she didn’t tell him to move over. He was so darned excited to have her do this, almost as if she really was a goddess.

Max joined them, only he didn’t have to draw. He got to kick back and watch. Lizzie wished she hadn’t gotten roped into this. What if she ruined the boy’s book? What if he didn’t like what she did to it?

She opened the first page: the depiction of Tokoni and his family on a sunny day. She used an orange crayon and added more rays to the giant sun, giving it an extra pop of color. That seemed safe enough.

Tokoni grinned. What Max had told her about the boy was true. He smiled all the time.

“Do something else,” he told her.

She put grass beneath the people’s feet and glanced across the table at Max. He shot her a playful wink, and her pulse beat a bit faster.

Returning to the picture, Lizzie drew multicolored flowers sprouting up from the grass. “How’s this?” she asked Tokoni.

“That’s nice.” He turned the page for her. “Do this one.”

It was the ocean scene. She embellished it with bigger waves and a school of fish. She added sand and seashells, too.

Tokoni wiggled in his seat and went to the next page, where the family was going out to dinner. He said, “Make the mommy look more like a girl.”