they related to me, too?”
Squeegee got tired of waiting for Hope to scratch her ears again, and she jumped up on Hope, bumping her arm and making her spill some coffee.
“Squeegee, stop it. Lie down. The uncles. You know we’re not biologically related to them, right, Amber? Your mom and I call them the uncles because we’ve known them for a long time.”
“I’ve known lots of people for a long time—like my teachers—and they’re not my uncles. What makes somebody an uncle?”
Hope frowned. “I’m not sure. When I was about your age, they took care of me sometimes. They were special. They loved me. I loved them. So they became our honorary uncles. Like family we chose.”
“Are your uncles my uncles, too?”
“They could be, I guess. But if you wanted an honorary uncle, you could ask someone you like.”
Amber nodded. “That way there will be more uncles to go around. Like at my birthday parties. Your uncles and my uncles.”
Hope grinned. “That’s right. But you have to pick special people, Amber. People you would do something special for.”
Kenji came back into the kitchen holding a stout fennel bulb.
“Amber, what do you think about fennel?” he said.
She nodded. “Mom makes a fennel salad I like,” she said.
“Okay. We’ll put fennel on the maybe list.” He disappeared back into the pantry.
“People you’d do something special for,” Amber said, looking thoughtful. “Like Kenji.”
Hope laughed. Kenji wouldn’t know what hit him.
“You’ll have to ask him, sweetie,” she said. “And don’t be too disappointed if he says no. You might want to wait a little while, until you know each other better. I mean, what if he likes snails?”
Amber shuddered. “Gross.”
Hope grinned. “I know. Your honorary uncles don’t have to be perfect, but they do have to be special. You just want to think about it.”
“Okay.” Amber picked up the knife, turned back to the counter and leaned into the carrot she was trimming. “Kenji is special, though. I’m going to ask him.”
Hope stood up to get a bowl of cereal, and Squeegee, released from her massaging fingers, bounded over to where Amber stood on the step stool and barked for a treat.
“Not now, Squeegee,” Amber said. “No begging.”
The dog sat, her tongue lolling, grinning at her. Then Amber moved to slice the carrot and Squeegee jumped up against her, smacking the arm that held the knife. The knife slashed across the girl’s other hand, and Amber staggered, cried out, pitched off the stool, and crumpled to the floor.
Hope dropped her cereal and rushed over to her niece, pushing the eager dog out of the way. She knelt down. “Amber! Let me see.”
Amber’s eyes were open but she looked scared.
Blood gushed from a deep gash across the palm of her hand and across the joint of her thumb. Even without getting closer, Hope could see something white inside—tendons? Nerves? Bone? She wasn’t sure. But Amber needed medical help, and soon.
“We’ll have to go and get that stitched up,” she said, trying to smile and sound reassuring as she stood. “It’s pretty deep. Just lie still. Can you hold your hand up? That’s the girl. Kenji!” She opened the kitchen cupboard where they kept the first aid kit and pulled out some gauze pads and bandages.
“What happened?” Kenji said, already in the kitchen.
“Amber cut herself. I think she needs stitches.”
“It hurts.” Amber’s voice trembled.
Hope knelt beside the child. “I know, sweetie. I’m sorry. When we get to the clinic the doctor will give you something.” She pressed the pads against the cut and wrapped the bandages tightly around them, hoping to stem the flow of blood. She turned to Kenji.
“Call Faith, will you? Her number’s on the pad by the fridge. Amber, I’m going to raise your hand over your head and prop it up a little bit with this towel. That will slow the bleeding. Just lie still for a minute while I get dressed.” Hope tore back into her bedroom, flinging off her pajamas while she ran, as Kenji grabbed the phone and dialed Faith.
Seconds later Hope was back, stuffing her wallet into her purse. Kenji was talking into the phone.
“Faith, it’s Kenji. Amber’s had an accident, she cut her hand.” He turned to Hope. “Does she need a hospital?”
Hope nodded. “I think so.”
He turned back to the phone. “We’re taking her to Las Vegas General. Meet us there when you can.” He hung up.
“It’s the closest, and they have a good trauma team,” he explained to Hope. “I’ve been treated there myself. You