65
I stood in the aisle with the seed packets. Chives, onions, eggplants, bell peppers, tomatoes, parsley, dill.
The girl, the young woman who was my biological daughter, arranged red glazed dishes on a shelf next to mugs. The top half of her dark hair was pulled up in a small ponytail. She wore her earbuds, listening to music as she worked, picking up small dishes from a crate at her side. She sang to herself, her thoughts coming to life on her face.
I could’ve stood here for hours studying her. She was real, visible, tangible, but we were separated from her. A Christmas fantasy display in a department store window. We’d be glued to that pane of glass forever, our eyes and senses swallowing every detail with wonder, but unable to touch it, live it.
I moved toward her, not knowing what I’d say or do. Only that I had to do something. My hands were suddenly sweaty, my mouth dry. I was Frankenstein’s monster, lumbering, awkward, intrigued. She was the innocent young girl picking flowers at the side of the lake.
“Oh, hello.” Zoë’s smile lit up her face.
“Hey. Zoë, right?”
Her lips twisted, her gaze darting away and back again. She was clearly pleased, and a bit flustered. “Mr. F-Finger, right?”
My breath tightened in my chest. “That’s right.”
She was the most beautiful flower, but I knew better than to throw her in the lake. I’d raise her above the world if I could.
I shifted my weight, my back stiff. “Those are real nice dishes. Did you make those?”
“Yep. I love red. I made only red dishes yesterday. Everyone should have a red dessert plate. It would make dessert so much more fun.”
I ground my heels in the floor, bracing myself under the spray of her diamond sparkles, the sheen of her fairy dust.
“Do you make cereal bowls?” I asked her.
“Sometimes.”
“Could you make me two in that red?”
She giggled. “Sure! Hey, did you and Lenore put in the tiles?”
“Uhh. No. Not yet.”
She scrunched her nose and pushed her glasses up. “Oh.”
The bandana laying around my throat was a dead weight around my neck, and I tugged on it. “I want to help her with the tiles, but we forgot to buy glue for them, and I’m not sure what to get. Could you help me?”
“Not glue, silly.” She let out a hearty laugh. “G-grout. Like cement. It’s called grout.”
“Oh, I didn’t know. Could you show me which one I should buy for her?”
“Sure. This way.”
I followed her over two aisles. A slight imbalance in the way she carried her weight gave her a shuffling step to her walk. She pointed to a bag. “This one. That’s what I use.” She picked up a small sack and handed it to me.
The sack thudded against my chest, and as I grabbed at it, our hands brushed. “Thanks, Zoë. I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. You must like her a lot, right? She’s a very nice lady. She’s been shopping with us for a long, long time.”
My mouth dried. “I’ve known her for a long time too.”
“You like her?”
“Yes.”
“I mean, you like, like her, right?”
“How did you guess that?”
“I could tell. She was different around you. You both look nice together, especially with all the tattoos you both have. I want her to have a boyfriend.”
“You want Lenore to be happy. Like you are with Mark?”
Her cheeks turned pink, and she let out a belly laugh, her blue green eyes darting around in a circle. “Yes!”
Something jolted through my chest. Dazzling.
“I want her to be happy, too,” I said, clearing my throat. “Just like that. Like you and Mark.”
“Yay. If you treat her right, she’ll like you back.”
“You’re a smart girl, you know that?”
“You have that zingy thing.”
“Zingy thing?”
“You know, that feeling between a boy and a girl. I could tell right away with you and Lenore. Mommy and Daddy have it too.” She laughed, twisting her mouth again.
“Can I help you?” a young guy in his late teens came up behind Zoë. He wore a name tag—Tim—on his Pine Needle Garden Center Family Owned since 1936 T-shirt.
“I’m taking this.” I handed Tim the sack of powder.
Tim blinked at my scarred hands. “Anything else you need today, sir?”
“That’s it. For now.”
“I’ll ring it up for you at the front.” Tim trudged up the aisle.
“Well.” I shifted my weight. “Bye, Zoë. Thanks.”
“Bye-bye. Say hi to Lenore for me.”
“I will.”
I paid Tim for the grout and left the nursery, holding the sack under my arm tightly. I clutched it like a football, and I was crossing the goal line with one second left on the clock. I closed my eyes, and burned her smiling blue green eyes into my heart. The soft giggly chirp of her voice. A spirit full of innocent positivity.
She had never known rejection, or life and death fear, or hunger, never been touched by anything sordid or miserable or degrading. There was only radiant sun and brilliant rainbows in that girl.
“Protecting that child. At any cost,” Tania had said.
My and Serena’s flesh and blood walked the earth and dreamed and danced and sang and laughed, setting the sky on fire.
Sunshine, our daughter is so beautiful.
A wave of light-headedness passed through me, and I gulped in air. Unbuckling a saddlebag, I shoved the small grout bag inside.
Then I tucked my experience of my daughter deep in my quaking soul.