Clover

Gage is remarkably calm about the whole paparazzi-in-the-woods thing, and it’s weird. After successfully secluding himself and his daughter on this mountain for six years, suddenly he’s okay with being found out? It doesn’t make sense.

He doesn’t want me to feel bad, and he might be covering up his true feelings. The second Adley is in bed tonight, I’m asking him about it.

Adley and I sit back down in front of the fire while Gage walks around the room locking the door and activating the one-way windows that overlook the mountains. During the day when you sit in the living room of his home, it feels as if you are sitting outside on the edge of a giant rock overlooking the forest below. The house is built into the mountain on one side, faces an adjoining mountain on another, and faces the woods on yet another. Whoever built it was going for maximum view effect, and they sure got it.

“Do you want me to start dinner?” I ask sounding more timid than I had meant to.

“I can get it. Why don’t you two go change into something warm.”

Translation, I want to be alone and think about the whole world attacking me for abandoning them like a dick.

“Okay, come on, Adley, let’s go upstairs.”

She leads the way, and we stop in her room first. “Is my purple unicorn sweatshirt clean?”

“Yep, washed it yesterday.”

“You think Daddy’s mad, huh?”

I look at her and see a child wise beyond her years. “I’m not sure, honey. I know he doesn’t want me to feel bad, but I can’t help wonder if he wishes I had never run into you guys in Jerry’s store that day.”

“He doesn’t think that! He likes you a lot. I’m glad we met you. I like having you around to talk to.”

“I’m glad, too.” I hand her the purple unicorn sweatshirt and kiss the top of her head breathing in the strawberry scent of her Barbie shampoo. “I’m going to go grab some clothes, you good?”

“Uh huh.” I cross the room, and she calls after me. “Clover?”

I turn around. “Yeah?”

“Please don’t leave.”

I wave my hand in the direction of my bedroom two doors down from hers. “I’m only going to my room. I’ll be right back.”

“No, I mean don’t leave us.”

“Oh, no, honey. I’m not planning on leaving.” I almost say yet but decide against it. There’s no reason to plant the seed of worry in Adley’s head.

I don’t know where this is going with Gage. If that photograph exposes him and things get ugly, he might not want anything to do with me anymore. I’ll deal with that when and if it happens. The thought is in the back of my mind lurking in the shadows waiting to confirm my suspicions about being cursed for life.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now stop worrying and get dressed. We have to go help your daddy with dinner and work on your safety project.”

Her lip curls in a snarl. “I hate safety.”

“I love safety, and I’ll explain why if you hurry.” The snarl morphs into a smile, and she disappears into her closet to find a pair of pants.

In the kitchen, Gage is boiling water and browning ground beef on the stove. “Spaghetti?” I ask guessing at his dinner menu.

“Yeah, I don’t have many dishes in my repertoire. Anytime you want to jump in with something new, I’m always taking suggestions.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. I am still officially a college student, though, and my repertoire includes grilled cheese and Ramen noodles. Anything you make is gourmet to me.”

“Good to know.” He grows quiet, and I decide to make garlic toast to go with his spaghetti. I take a loaf of French bread from the pantry and cut it in half. I reach across him carefully and turn the oven on to preheat and start cutting slices into the loaf and filling them with butter and garlic salt.

“Are you okay?” I ask. He’s stirring the meat with a pained expression.

“I have a headache. Can you pass me the Tylenol?” He points to a red and white bottle next to the sink. I hand them over and grab him a bottle of water.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Hey, Adley and I are going to work on her project for school tonight. I was going to ask if you wanted to help, but if your head hurts…” I was hoping to lure him out of his bad mood.

“Sure, I’ll be fine as soon as the Tylenol starts to work. What kind of project?”

“Safety. I’m going to suggest fire safety, and I’m going to tell her why it’s so important to me.” That’s not completely true. I will tell her that fire is deadly and that it can ruin lives like mine. I will not tell her that it was my carelessness that led to my parents’ and dog’s death.

Gage stops what he is doing and turns to face me full-on. “You don’t have to do that, you know. I mean if it’s too painful.”

“It’s painful but not for the reasons you think. I want to tell her. I think she’s indifferent about safety because she doesn’t have anything or anyone to relate it to. If she knows my story, it might spark a passion in her, no pun intended.”

His eyebrows shoot up at the word spark. “As long as you’re comfortable talking about it, I don’t want you to feel pressured. She can choose any safety concern for that project. It doesn’t have to be fire safety.”

“I know.”

“I want to talk to you about something after she goes to bed.”

“Uh oh, are you firing me?”

He looks at me as if I were absurd. “No, of course not. It’s not about the job.”

“Why can’t we talk about it right now?”

“Daddy! Are you making sketti?” Adley yells bounding down the stairs.

“Yep, sure am. Nothing like a pot of spaghetti after a day outdoors.”

“Yes!” she hisses loudly bending her elbows and balling up her fists to pull them in against her sides.

“And garlic bread,” I add.

She moans loudly. “Best dinner ever!”

“A girl after my own heart.”

“Can we talk about my project now?” she asks climbing onto a barstool.

“Sure.”

“Wait, you want to do your safety project now?” Gage asks surprised to hear she’s interested.

“Clover is gonna tell me why fire safety is important to her.”

“Oh, okay.” He eyes me as if to ask are you sure, and I nod my head.

After I slide the pan of garlic bread into the oven, I take a seat next to her.

“When I was ten years old, my house burned down. My mom and dad and my dog were inside, and they all died.”

Adley gasps, and her mouth falls open. “I feel very strongly about fire safety because I don’t ever want anyone to go through what I went through.”

“How did the fire start?” she asks, and I take a deep breath and hold it for a moment before letting it go. I knew she would ask this question. It’s only natural to wonder how a fire of that magnitude got started.

“Someone wasn’t careful with matches, and they caught a rug on fire. The rug flames caught the curtains on fire, and the house was very old. Everything was on fire within minutes. My mom was a nurse, and she worked the night shift. She took sleeping pills to help her sleep during the day. The firefighter says she probably never heard me yelling. My dad was working at home in his office upstairs. The window was stuck shut, and he died of smoke inhalation before he could escape. I ran out into the yard with a few burns. I tried to go back in for my parents and my dog, Billy, but it was too hot.”

Tears fill Adley’s eyes, and I reach out and cup her cheek. “Don’t cry, honey, I just wanted to tell you, so you’ll be passionate about fire safety.”

“But they died, that’s so sad. What’d you do? Who did you live with?”

“I was lucky my mom had a sister. I went to live with Heather, and she raised me.”

Adley wraps her arms around my middle, and I look at Gage over her head and shrug. I don’t know if it helps to tell kids my tragedy, but I’m pretty sure it makes them think.

“Thank you for telling us your story,” Gage says sliding his hand across the counter to cover mine.

“So, for your project, I think we should do something about respecting fire. Maybe your dad could help us write lyrics to go with Aretha Franklin’s Respect? We could sing it to your class.” My tone is upbeat as I try to bring us all back to the pleasant frame of mind we were in only a few minutes ago.

Gage releases my hand. “That shouldn’t be too hard. You can sing it, Adley. You’re a great singer.”

“Yes! That’s way cooler than making a stupid poster board!”

“We might have to have a visual aid of some sort. I’ll check the assignment, but the song should get you a good grade, and you’ll be teaching about something very important at the same time. You might even save somebody’s life one day.”

“Why don’t you go find that rubric for the assignment?” I say to Adley.

“Okay.” She jumps off the stool and starts to run away stopping halfway to the stairs. “Clover?”

“Yeah, honey?”

“Thanks for telling me about your fire.”

“You’re welcome.”

When she’s gone, Gage stirs the meat and adds the pasta to the water. “Is there more to that story that you want to tell me now that we’re alone?”

“I don’t want to, but I will. It was me who started the house on fire. I wanted to light the candles on my dad’s birthday cake that year. I thought I should practice. I couldn’t get a match to light by striking it, so I used a lighter. The whole book went up in flames. The heat was intense, and I dropped them on the floor. You know the rest.”

“You were just a child. You can’t blame yourself.”

“Oh, but I can, and I do. If I hadn’t been messing around, my life would be very different today.”

“It was an accident. You didn’t mean for it to happen, you can’t blame yourself.”

“Just like you can’t blame yourself for your wife’s death?” He freezes and looks me straight in the eyes.

“That’s totally different.”

“Oh yeah? How?” I’ve been thinking about this ever since he told me he believes his wife’s blood is on his hands.

“I was an adult for starters. I knew what I was doing was wrong, and I did it anyway. I was selfish and careless and full of myself. You were a child trying to teach yourself to do something sweet for your father for his birthday.”

“Still got the same result, though, didn’t I?”

“Maybe so, but the circumstances surrounding our events were a world apart.”

“Why don’t we agree to disagree?”

“We’re going to have to,” he says lifting his eyes to the stairs where Adley is racing down with her rubric in her hand.

“Found it!”

“Cool, let’s have a look.” She hands me the paper. “Yep, right here. We have to have a visual aid. It can be in the form of props, though, so maybe we can make a giant match or something.”

“We could use a big piece of wood and paint the end red!”

“That’s a great idea.” I look up at Gage who is watching me closely. He’s not done with me yet. When Adley goes to sleep, he is going to want to talk about the fire some more, and that’s okay because I’m not done debating about his wife’s death either.