Stolen precious time with Emily.
You did that to yourself, I remind myself. You made the decision to fester and stay away from her.
“Your stubbornness is unnerving,” she said. Yeah, I’m ruining things all on my own.
I sigh as I watch Katie continue to play with Emily’s zipper.
Zip up. Zip down. Zip up. Zip down.
The noise becomes more annoying as my tolerance lowers.
“Enough,” I hiss while I look from Katie’s fingers to her face. With both my eyes and my words, I warn her. When she first stopped speaking, eye contact was integral to our communication. I needed her to look me in the eye when I spoke so I’d know she heard me, and her expression told me if she understood something. Tonight, I’m on edge. The air around us crackles and I want to dismiss it as anticipation of the fireworks display. People surround us with their cheerful chatter and their playful banter. It’s a night of family, happiness, and celebration, but I’m slowly unraveling.
“Are you trying to zip me up?” Emily interjects, maybe trying to lessen the tension around us. She keeps her eyes on Katie, who has stilled mid-motion. Of course, Katie doesn’t answer Emily. She doesn’t even look up at her.
“One more fairy secret, Princess Katie,” Emily says, and I roll my eyes. Not this shit again. Sitting forward, I bring my knees upward and wrap my arms around them. Squinting off in the distance, I feel numb with all this princess and fairy crap.
“A poem.” Emily takes a breath before she continues. “I will miss you when I go, but in my heart, I’ll love you so. If you should ever wish to speak, know your words will stay with me. My heart will always hear your voice. Your words are silent by your choice. And though the miles keep us apart, I’ll hear your words deep in my heart.”
What the hell?
Silence descends over our little space and Katie slowly restarts the zipping motion.
One—click—tooth—snap—at a time.
Her little eyes shift to me. She looks to see if I’m watching her as she plays with Emily’s zipper even though I’d warned her to stop. Between Katie’s defiance and Emily’s poem, I lose it. I’ve had enough of the zipper noise and enough of Emily’s mumbo-jumbo.
“Shut it with that nonsense,” I say to Emily. Katie freezes. The zipper is almost to Emily’s neck. “Just shut up, Emily.”
The silence from a moment ago becomes an eerie stillness. My mouth fills with more angry words, more explanations of why she needs to stop spewing this crap about fairies and professing her love.
“Mommy said shut up.”
The world stops moving.
Trees halt their swaying.
The air stagnates.
The lake stills.
“What did you say?” I don’t even recognize my own voice, let alone the soft tenor of hers. Katie has stilled again on Emily’s thighs.
“Jess,” Emily whispers. “Don’t frighten her.”
Frighten her? Don’t frighten her? Did she not hear what I heard?
“Say it again, baby,” I whisper, afraid that I’m dreaming. My heart thumps triple-time in my chest.
“Mommy said shut up,” Katie repeats. She falls against Emily’s chest and buries her face at Emily’s sternum. It’s not enough. I need to hold her, touch her, feel that it’s real. That she spoke, and what she said is the truth.
Debbie told her to shut up. So she did.
How does a four-year old find that strength?
And how did she become brave enough to finally tell me at six?
I reach for her. My hands slip between their bodies, and I tug Katie to me, tuck her into my own chest. My head rests on the top of hers as I wrap my arms around her. I want nothing more than to cocoon her from the evil of what happened, to protect her against it ever happening again. And most of all, I want her to forgive me for ever letting it happen in the first place, even though it wasn’t my fault. Not directly.
I hold my breath as my heart thunders in my chest. I think I’m going to throw up, and I want nothing more than to get out of this suffocating crowd.
Then the first hiss fills the dark sky, and the black night bursts into color. A spray of fire in electric white jets upward, illuminating everything. Only I’m not watching. I’m not really seeing the display.
My child just spoke.
And what she told me makes my heart hurt.
The fireworks go on for what seems like an eternity. When they finally finish, I stand with Katie held tightly to