“Here, you need this.”
A representative from Rhea Lana’s, “The nation’s premier children’s consignment event venue” stabs a promotional card at me for their Fall 2013 event. Glancing at the card, her eyes watch me on her way out the door.
Addilynn jumps out of her seat, and I beg her to sit down, again. I make my way to the trash and look at Carla behind the desk.
“Actually I don’t need this.”
She throws the rest of the cards away along with mine.
“Please sit down Addi, your mom will be done tanning in three minutes.”
“I wanna’ tan,” she whines.
“You’re too little to tan.”
The three minutes drag on and Kristen makes her way out.
“Some lady just handed me this I guess she thought Addi was mine,” I say.
Three minutes later the situation would have been turned around. If the representative had walked through the door three minutes later she would have seen that Addi was not my child. She would have seen I was watching my niece and waiting for my sister to get done tanning.
***
“Hi, what’s your last name?” I greet the customer.
Addi jumps from her seat, “Hi.”
I ask her to go back to the couch and finish coloring.
“Is she yours?”
I reply with a forced smile and a polite, “No, she’s my niece.”
Sometimes she feels like my own. I get her ready in the mornings, I take her to school, I wipe her tears as she begs me not to leave. But she’s not mine; she’s my niece who I choose to live with. She’s my best friend.