“I saw,” I assured her, patting her head where her hair was tied up into a poofy little bun. “You did great. And you know what great girls get?”
Before she could even ask, I held out the bouquet of flowers that I had been hiding behind my back.
Melody squealed with glee as she grabbed them, bouncing up and down hard enough to make several petals fall off. The bouquet was nearly as big as she was, and the way she held it in her arms made it look like she was waltzing with it.
Chantal put a steadying hand on Melody’s shoulder to keep her from falling over.
“All right. Let’s hurry up and get you changed out of your costume. Then we can go out for ice cream. Sound good?”
“Ice cream?” Somehow, impossibly, Melody’s eyes managed to get even bigger as she stared up at us. “But it’s not the weekend.”
As a way to restrict junk food, Chantal and I had made a rule when Melody was first born that desserts could only be eaten on the weekend. It had seemed like a good way to encourage healthy snacks while still letting her have sweets every now and then, though now Melody believed there was some sort of dessert law enforced by dessert police.
“We got special permission for today to celebrate your performance,” I told her. “But… there’s a time limit. So, you better go get changed quickly before it runs out.”
Without another word, she shoved her bouquet back into my hands, then ran as fast as her little legs could carry her over to her stuff waiting in a pile in the corner of the room.
Chantal patted my arm. “Wait here while I go help her get out of that costume. It’ll probably take us a few minutes. For something made for kids, they sure made it complicated to get in and out of.”
Then she left to help our daughter without a backward glance.
A few years ago, I would have kissed her on the cheek before parting. Even if we were only going to be separated for a few minutes, I tried to always make sure our last interaction was an affectionate one.
Now, we parted as easily as a frayed thread.
It was strange how quickly things could change. With the signing of a single piece of paper I went from married to unmarried, and in the passing of a few years, I went from grieving my divorce to barely noticing it. Everyone was as happy as I could hope for.Melody and Chantal were both doing well. I was settling into my new life here in the same city as them. This wasn’t the life I had originally planned, but it wasn’t a bad one either. It was good. Peaceful. I could live every day like this and be content.
Maybe wishing for more than that would just be selfish.
CHAPTER 9
Auggie
The next timeI visited the John Doe patient, I brought I whole collection of books with me. Melody’s performance had given me an idea for what to read next now that I’d finished Peter Pan. Her recital had included dance routines from a bunch of different ballets, and I’d enjoyed getting a sampling of a bunch of different styles all at once.
Written stories could be the same way. Instead of committing to a single novel, I instead turned my attention to collections of short stories that I could read to the unconscious man.
Furthermore, a lot of ballets were inspired by fables and folklore, which inspired me to bring short story collections of fairy tales to read. I’d brought about ten in total, and not just the classicGrimmfairy tales, orHans Christian Andersen. I also brought Russian folklore, Chinese fables, and even some Ancient Egyptian stories. I’d managed to bring a sampling of folklore from the entire world into that little room.
“I’m not sure what you’d like most,” I said to the John Doe as I perused the different books. “So, I’ll just have to choose something and give it a shot. Let’s see. We’ve got Japanese fairy tales. I don’t know much about those. Oh, I didn’t realize theFountain of Youthwas originally Japanese. How about we start with that one.”
The hours passedin that small room as I crooned out the words from the stories, the constantbeep beepof the life-sustaining machines the only other sound. Even the normal sounds from the hallway, of nurses moving from room to room or the softly squeaking wheels on the cart of the sanitation crew were drowned out.
John Doe seemed to be enjoying the stories as he rested comfortably. Then again, who really knew what was going on behind those closed eyelids.
CHAPTER 10
Mia
The reading voicewent away for a while.
At least, I thought it went away. After the electroshock therapy, I was lost in my memories for a while and didn’t notice anything else. Memories of Camp Green Hill were like a black hole in my mind. Nearly impossible to escape once I fell into them. The only option was to ride them out and wait for them to run their course.
But, thankfully, every nightmare ends. Eventually, thoughts of that camp receded to the back of my mind where they belonged, and like a reward for my troubles, the reading voice returned.
We’d finished Peter Pan. Would they still read to me? I hoped so. Even my worst memories were easier to ignore when I had that voice to focus on instead.
It turned out that they brought me not just one story, but many. A whole selection of different fairy tales awaited me from all over the world. Some of them I liked. Some of them I didn’t. Yet, eventhe stories with sad endings seemed a little better when that voice was reading them to me.