“I have something for you,” I hear her say. “It’s a write-your-own story book.” Normally, I drown out sounds when I’m working. My mind usually wanders to a million different things but I can’t tune out the sound of Emily’s voice speaking to my child. It speaks to me.
“Let’s call you Princess Katie, to protect your identity,” she continues, and I shake my head. She’s really good with this fairy-tale stuff.
“Shall we begin with, ‘Once upon a time there lived a girl named Princess Katie?’” Emily throws her voice as she speaks.
For some reason, I look up as if I expect my daughter to answer her, as if one little word, like yes, will crack the vault on her silence.
“How about, ‘She was very smart and very pretty, but she had a secret spell cast upon her?’”
Good God, not this again. I shake my head and begin working on the first panel piece. I notice Katie sits right next to Emily, their thighs close, and I’m a little jealous of the nearness. I want to tuck Emily back into me. I couldn’t stay with her the other night because of Katie. I hate to leave my daughter assuming my mom or Tricia will cover things, but Tricia heard Emily and me fight, and she warned me I either needed to chase her or give her up.
I chased.
“The words of another took the words from Katie,” Emily continues, fixated on this concept. It isn’t like we don’t all agree something happened, but I feel like we’ll never know if Debbie did something or said something or if Katie saw something. It’s all a great mystery. Maybe she watched her mother walk out the door for the final time. My heart clenches at the thought. It’s all possible considering I found her hours after Debbie left.
“The King and his family were very sad the princess could no longer speak.” The words drift to me as I continue working. My fingers slip with both sweat and nerves.
Why does Emily have to be so pushy? Maybe pushy isn’t the right word. Persistent? Insistent? Just let it go, I want to tell her. My daughter isn’t going to say anything, and it’s taken me a long time to accept the reality. She’ll talk when she’s ready. Or not.
“The royal family was unaware how the spell was made or how it could be broken because Princess Katie couldn’t tell them. However, the princess knew the answers.”
I freeze, my back to them as I lick my lips. I should tell her to stop.
“And it was up to the princess to break the spell. Not a godmother. Not a good fairy. It had to be her.”
There’s a pause.
“She needs to be very brave,” Emily says and then her voice shifts as she speaks more directly to my daughter. “Do you think Princess Katie is brave?”
I look up, watching as my baby girl stares up at this stranger. Is she a fairy godmother? Could she be a mother to a child who isn’t her own? It’s something I haven’t ever imagined—marrying again, falling in love, giving Katie a new mother—until recently.
“I think Princess Katie is very brave,” Emily states and I wonder if I’m half as brave as my child, who has locked herself in an impenetrable cage.
“There is a condition to Katie’s spell. On the night of the fire in the sky, three secrets whispered in her ear by a good fairy will help the princess find the courage to break the spell.” There is another pause in her altered voice, and she stares down at my child, as if holding her breath, waiting for Katie to agree to something.
Good luck, woman. It’s not going to happen. No words will escape those tight lips.
“Should that be the end? A cliffhanger where we don’t know the truth? Or will it be true? On the night of fire in the sky, with three secrets revealed, will Princess Katie be unlocked from her spell?”
Now, I hold my breath. Will she answer Emily?
“Do we need a beast or a prince? A knight in shining armor, perhaps?” I chuckle to myself, knowing Emily doesn’t believe in that part of the story. No man needs to fix her. So efficient. Sometimes, I think she’s the stubborn one, but there’s a vulnerability to her.
No one’s ever picked me.
Jesus, men are stupid beasts.
“Actually, the beast already has a story where he learns to love and then receives love in return, so that idea is already taken. And then the guy who steals a shoe, that’s gone as well. Let’s see…” Emily pauses. “Girl in a tower. Nope. Mermaid under the sea. Nope. I guess since this is Princess Katie’s story, we’ll leave it up to the princess to save herself, because she is brave enough to do it on her own.”
I’ve finished a second panel and move onto the third when I hear Emily say, “Good enough to write ‘The End?’” Another silent pause. “Then time for pictures.” She has everything set up. I’m assuming she didn’t have colored pencils laying around, so it’s another gift for my daughter. Emily is thoughtful.
“Katie,” Emily’s voice shifts. “I want to tell you another story, about my nana.” I glance up to see Emily stroking Katie’s hair behind her ear, her voice soothing as she tenderly touches my child.
“My nana died. Do you know what that means?” Without waiting on any acknowledgement from Katie, Emily continues. “It means she went away, and I won’t ever see her again. She’s in heaven. Do you know where that is?”
Katie looks up at the sky, and my heart beats three times as fast as it should. I never had to have this conversation because Katie was still so small when my father was killed. She was too young to understand and newly under her silent spell.
Jesus, now I’m even using Emily’s label for it.
“When a person goes to heaven, they can’t come back, honey. It’s just the way of things. I’m going to leave soon too, Katie bug, but I’m not going to heaven. I’m going to my home because I don’t live here. This is Nana’s place, but I want you to know I’ll be missing you every day. And maybe . . . maybe I can come back here someday and see you.”
Her voice sounds thick, and I watch as Emily closes her eyes.
Dammit. Don’t do it. Don’t go.
“I was scared when Nana left me, but I know she’ll always be in my heart. Her memories will always be inside my head, and I’ll love her forever despite our distance. Anyway, I must be very brave now that Nana’s gone. I need to make all kinds of decisions, and I need to stay strong. Just like I know you’ll be strong when I go because you know that I . . . I care about you.”
She fights the words I know she wants to say because I told her she couldn’t. She couldn’t love my child. Watching her struggle makes my chest ache and I want to go to both of them, wrap them in my arms, and never let either one leave me.
“How about some lemonade?” Emily interjects, quickly changing the topic and offering Katie a weak smile. She swipes under her eye and then unfolds her legs to stand. Before she does, she presses a kiss to Katie’s hair and then pushes herself upright and walks to the house with hurried steps. Katie’s eyes follow Emily, and I don’t know who to go to first.
I pick Katie. I always need to pick my daughter first, and I ask her to show me the book and her pictures, and then ask her if she understands what Emily said about people dying and how Emily was correct, it won’t be the same thing when she leaves. We can think about her and talk about her every day, although the talking part I know won’t happen. Even I’ll be silent and grumpy when she goes.