Eileen laughed.
“You remembered me?”
Hattie held out her wand.
Diesel stopped at the counter and looked toward the framed photograph.
He saw where Eileen had placed it.
Not tucked into a drawer.
Not hidden in the break room.
Beside her family photographs.
For several seconds he said nothing.
Then he pointed toward it.
“You printed that?”
“Two copies.”
Eileen opened a drawer beneath the counter.
Inside was the second print.
She had slipped it into a plain envelope to keep it clean.
She handed the envelope to Diesel.
He pulled out the photograph.
The giant man in the picture looked ridiculous.
He looked happy too.
Diesel studied it longer than Eileen expected.
“Figured you might want one that wasn’t trapped inside Facebook,” she said.
He nodded once.
His voice was quieter when he answered.
“Yeah.
I do.”
Hattie reached for the photograph.
Diesel held it where she could see.
She pointed first at herself.
Then at him.
Then at Eileen.
“Crown.
Crown.
Crown.”
Eileen leaned closer.
“That’s right.”
Diesel looked at the pink crown in his hand.
Then he looked around the front of the store.
A week earlier, he had stood in almost the same spot while strangers quietly evaluated whether his presence meant trouble.
Now several employees recognized him.
One waved.
A cashier smiled at Hattie.
Nobody moved a child away.
Nobody lowered a voice.
Diesel placed the crown on his head.
“All right,” he said to Hattie.
“You happy?”
Hattie immediately pointed at Eileen.
There was still a third crown at home, but Eileen did not need it.
She tapped the framed photograph behind her.
“Mine’s already on.”
Diesel laughed.
Before leaving the desk, he held out his hand.
Eileen ignored it and hugged him instead.
For one startled moment his arms stayed at his sides.
Then he carefully hugged her back, mindful of Hattie between them.
It lasted perhaps two seconds.
