"My handwriting isn't very good yet because my hands are so small."

"Maybe you need a special pencil, that's the right size for your hands. Or you could learn to type, though I guess the normal keyboard is going to be way too big for your hands as well. There might be keyboards the right size for kids but I bet they would be more expensive." 

"I'm practicing writing, and my hands will get stronger, but maybe if Miss Enderbridge wants a book report I should deliver it orally."

"She would probably really like that as well! I haven't heard back from your social worker yet, but hopefully by tomorrow he'll get back to me and say it's okay for me to drop you off with Miss Enderbridge for a morning or afternoon. Maybe we should make a casserole tonight, so it's ready to take over and bake? We've got some time before it's your bedtime." 

"Sure. What kind of casserole?"

"I'm not sure! Hmm. Miss Enderbridge always puts potatoes on her shopping list, and frozen peas, so she must like them. And we should do something with meat, I know she isn't vegetarian but meat is expensive and she looks like she isn't eating enough protein. Older people need to eat enough protein to keep their muscles strong so they don't fall and hurt themselves, just like little kids need to eat lots of protein to grow. And she lived in England when she was a kid, so probably she likes British recipes? I have a recipe for potato onion casserole that has peas and ground beef, we could make that for her, and boil the potatoes first so it just needs to be heated up and not cooked all the way through. Maybe you can stir the ground beef when it's cooking for me." 

"Sure, I can do that."

Evelyn will cut the onions, since presumably being blind does not render Annie immune to onion fumes (and also Annie should especially not be cutting anything with a knife, though she will have to learn eventually so she can cook on her own when she's grown up. Evelyn wonders vaguely if blind people have special tools for that sort of thing or if they just do it by feel.) 

While the halved baby potatoes sit in a pot of simmering water at the back of the stove to cook until nice and tender, they'll want to brown the diced onions in a pan with some olive oil, with the stove hood fan on high so the fumes won't bother Annie while she stirs, and then add a pound of ground beef and stir until that's cooked and crumbly, and then mix in a packet of onion soup mix and a cup of half-and-half cream. The recipe wants 'cream of onion soup' from a can but Evelyn doesn't have any; she thinks maybe it's more popular in England.

Then they'll mix in the peas and potatoes, and turn off the heat and pour the entire mix into a greased casserole dish, and boom, ready to bake! It only took like twenty minutes. 

Annie helps efficiently with all the parts of the process Evelyn invites her to involve herself in.

Evelyn sprinkles some Costco parmesan from a big canister onto the top - the recipe doesn't call for it but parmesan goes well on every casserole she's ever had - and then fridges it with saran wrap over the top. "There we go! It'll go nice and solid in the fridge overnight and we'll be able to carry it over to her house no problem whenever we visit." 

And it's, yet again, time for the usual bath-and-bedtime routine. Probably Annie should not risk Miss Enderbridge's books anywhere near the bathtub, just in case, but she's welcome to continue with a book from Evelyn's home collection. 

Yeah, all right, the Tamora Pierce was decent and she'll pick up another of those.

The next morning, there still isn't an email from Anthony, but Evelyn is starting to run low enough on fresh vegetables that she could really use a shopping run. She leaves a text and voicemail on Anthony's mobile, and by midmorning receives a somewhat hassled-sounding call where he confirms that it's fine by Social Services for Annie to stay for a few hours with someone police-checked and experienced with young children. He doesn't get around to asking for written proof, so Evelyn decides they can go ahead. She lets Annie know that they can call on Miss Enderbridge for lunch, if that sounds good to her? And bring the casserole, of course; they'll go over a little bit before lunchtime to avoid interrupting her in the middle of making something for herself. 

Sounds good to Annie! She can return The Trial.

They'll walk over at 11:30, then, Evelyn holding the plastic-wrap-topped casserole dish in one hand and Annie's hand in the other. Maybe Annie should bring her bookbag, it has room for more books if she ends up bringing some home. 

Miss Enderbridge, like before, answers the door immediately with a bright smile. "Come in! I made a whole jug of iced tea for you this time, Annie, it's been in the fridge all night. What did you think of the Kafka?" 

"It ended very abruptly and it made less sense with the scenes I skipped missing from the sequence of events but I liked it a lot, it was very good at evoking a certain powerlessness."

She is three and she uses phrases like 'a certain powerlessness'! How is she like this! 

"Miss Enderbridge," she says, "we made a casserole last night, and thought we'd bring it over for lunch. It's cooked, just needs to be warmed up. And I have permission from Annie's social worker for you to watch her for a few hours while I run some errands. Why don't I pop this in the oven for you, and we'll eat lunch together and then I'll slip out?" 

Miss Enderbridge nods distractedly, muttering something about how the dial on the left is 'a bit fussy' and the gas starter is out so you need to go in with the barbecue lighter. Mostly she wants to talk to Annie about Kafka.

"Right, yes. It was published after his death and it probably wasn't finished. We're not even sure if all the chapters are in the right order! He had a habit of not finishing stories. Maybe he couldn't think of a good ending." 

"It was abrupt but I'm not sure it was actually bad as an ending! A summary execution after all that rigmarole seems almost appropriate."

THIS TINY CHILD TALKS LIKE AN ENGLISH PROFESSOR.

Miss Enderbridge laughs. "I certainly couldn't think of a more appropriate ending myself. That's what Kafka is really good at, capturing the - arbitrariness, the capriciousness, the futility of bureaucratic systems. ...My students used to hate it. I remember one girl saying, all right so he's brilliant at capturing ennui, but why would I want to read about that? But I like it, it's a whole experience. Most kids these days just want excitement and adventure, but wouldn't you think that would get samey after a while?" 

"Maybe more people would appreciate Kafka capturing arbitrariness and capriciousness of bureaucratic systems if they read the book while they were three year olds in foster care."

You know, valid, but also ouch. 

Miss Enderbridge looks delighted. "You tell it like it is, Annie!" 

This is clearly going to be an excellent and positive relationship in Annie's life and also what is she, the foster mother in question, even supposed to say to that. 'I try not to be arbitrary and capricious'? That's not really the point, is it.