She was nervous. She hadn’t said so, but a mama knows her girl. Something about the way she sat and took in her surroundings clued me in.
Shoot. I wanted this to be fun, but she’s scared.
Something in me screams to call it off. Rescue her. Take her out for ice cream. A bowl covered with candy sprinkles should fix this.
Instead, I swallow hard, smile in her direction, more brightly than I feel, and walk out the door.
She’ll be fine.
Right?
I think so.
I hope so.
***