Wonder perched on the edge of a kitchen chair with her elbows on the table. "Tell me de story. I haven’t heard it for a long time."

Not for twenty-four hours.

I had made up the story the week before, when Monique showed up at my house after five absent years to announce, "This is my little girl, Wonder. Wonder, this is Teensie. She’ll take care of you while I go talk to my parents." She left without giving me time to object.

I had fed Wonder milk and cookies and racked my brain to think how I could entertain a four-year-old. Wonder had pinned me with coal black eyes. "Tell me a story ’bout pwincesses." I had been so startled to see my father’s eyes in that small tan face that I couldn’t remember a single fairy tale. The best I could do was make one up.

During their week in town Monique had left the child with me several times while she ran errands. Every time, Wonder had demanded the story, requesting new details and expecting them in future editions. Since Alice, my cook, had never heard the story, I began with trepidation.

"Once upon a time there was a king with three daughters. The oldest was brilliant. The second was beautiful. And the third—"

"—was not bwilliant or beautiful, but she liked to help people."

"No point in helping other folks," Alice declared. "They’ll suck the life out of you. Take care of number one. That’s my motto."

"Who is number one?" asked Wonder.

"Myself. Yourself," said Alice. "If everybody would take care of number one, the world would be a better place. That’s what I always say."

"But you’re not a pwincess," said Wonder.

I hastily continued. "A brilliant prince came to the castle one day. He married the brilliant princess and took her to his kingdom—"

"—where eb’ryone was bwilliant."

Wonder settled herself more comfortably on her chair.

"Right. Soon after that, a rich and handsome prince came to the castle and married the beautiful princess. He took her to his kingdom—"

"—where eb’ryone was wich and beautiful. But de t’ird pwincess neber got a pwince." Wonder’s face drooped, as mournful as her voice.

I laughed. "The youngest princess didn’t need a prince, remember? She liked to help people, so she became a nurse. "

I took the foil off a pan of brownies and began arranging them in concentric circles on a small silver tray.

"Go on wit’ de story!" Wonder waved one hand in an imperious gesture.

"I swan!" Alice exclaimed. My sentiments exactly. How could King’s ponderous blood run so thick in the veins of that quicksilver child?

"The third princess became a nurse," I repeated, "and she worked for four years in a large hospital in a faraway city. She was very happy."

"Even if dere weren’t any pwinces?"

"She didn’t need princes."

Before Wonder could object I hurried on. "One day the king’s sister got sick. He asked his youngest daughter to leave the hospital to care for her aunt. The princess agreed, because she loved her aunt very much. They lived together until her aunt died. By then her mother—"

"—de queen—"

"Yes, the queen was ill. So the king asked the youngest princess to move back to the castle to look after her mother."

"And de pwincess agreed because she loved her mudder very much."

"Right. The princess cared for her mother until she died. Afterwards, the princess wanted to return to her hospital . . . "

". . . but de king said, ‘P’ease stay wif me,’ for he did not know how to take care of himself."

"Kings got servants to take care of them," said Alice tartly as she poured iced tea into a silver pitcher.

"Yes, but dis king only had one servant to cook his dinner," Wonder explained. "He needed somebody to cook his bweffast and supper." We had clarified that the day before.

"Yeah, the king needed that, for sure." Alice gave me a wink. I didn’t know whether I was more astonished by the wink or by her entering into the spirit of the story. "The king needed somebody to help with his parties, too," she added, tossing her head. "That king plumb loved parties." I had always suspected Alice only stayed after Mother died because of the important people who ate at King’s table.

"Before we came to Nana’s, I fixed bweffast," Wonder informed us. "Mama put a little pitcher of milk in de fwigerator and she put Fwuit Loops and a bowl and a spoon on de table, and den she went to work. I fixed my bweffast so I didn’t have to wake up . . ." A stricken look froze her face.

"Your daddy?" I suggested.

She traced circles on the tablecloth with one small finger. "We aren’t ’posed to talk about him." Her shoulders slumped like the wings of a grieving angel.

I gave Alice a warning look. We would not quiz Wonder about forbidden subjects. "Where were we in the story?" I asked.

The child’s voice was listless. "So de youngest pwincess stayed with de king in his castle and dey lived happily togedder. De end." She traced a couple more circles on the tablecloth. I was glad when she puckered her forehead with a new question—until I heard it. "Did she stay with de king because she loved him very much?"

With Alice’s ears perked, that required careful answering. "The king was a stern man, hard to love, but the princess respected and admired him."

Alice carried the tray from the kitchen with a disapproving sniff. I had skated too close to the edge of the commandment to "Honor thy father."

Made reckless by anticipation, I added a bit more to the story as soon as the door swung shut shut behind Alice. "The princess also stayed because the king made her a promise. He promised that if she took care of him for the rest of his life, when he died he would leave her the castle, his furniture, and money enough to invite old people to live with her, so she could take care of them. Wasn’t that a nice promise?"

"Yeah!" Wonder’s eyes shone. "Den her pwince could come!"

"I told you, she didn’t need a prince. She needed to help people."

Wonder gave me a mutinous frown. "Pwinces are ’posed to come."

"Not always. Some princesses don’t need a prince."

"Yes, dey do, Teensie. Maybe he will come in de foreseeable future."

"Where on earth did you hear about the foreseeable future?"

"Granddaddy said we can live with dem wight now but Mama has to make important decisions in de foreseeable future."

Teensie will discover within the hour that she, too, will need to make important decisions in the foreseeable future.