Page 43 of The Coppersmith Farmhouse (Jamison Valley 1)
She emerged from the closet and stomped over clothes to the center of the room.
“This mess is not okay. What is going on?” I asked.
“I can’t find my pink fluffy skirt anywhere! I wanted to wear it to the recital!” Her eyes flooded and her chin quivered.
“What pink fluffy skirt?” I asked, even though I was certain I knew which one she was talking about. And if I was right, we were on the verge of a meltdown.
“The pink one with the shiny silver dots and the poufy skirt.”
My little super volcano was about to blow.
Eff.
“The one that Papa Ben gave you?” I asked.
“Yes!” she cried. “I want to wear it for my recital.” Her chest heaved with a spastic breath.
I stepped further into the room, walking over strewn clothes, to kneel down in front of her. What I was about to tell her wasn’t going to be fun.
“Baby girl, that skirt was really small. Ben got it for you when you were three. Now you’re four and a big girl. It didn’t fit you anymore so I had to give it away to the Salvation Army with all of your other three-year-old clothes.”
“Nooooo!” she screamed before collapsing in a fit of sobs.
I wrapped my arms around her in a tight hug, gently stroking her back as she cried.
This wasn’t about the skirt, this was about Ben.
She broke away to yell at me. “Ben gave that skirt to me, Mommy. Why did you throw it away? I need it back! He gave it to me! Get it back!”
I tried to pull her close again but she wasn’t having it. She started squirming and pushing away with her little arms.
“I’m so sorry, Roe. I gave it away last year. It’s all gone and I can’t get it back,” I said.
“I want my Papa Ben!” she shrieked. Then her little body collapsed again into mine as she wailed uncontrollably.
I held onto her tightly, sitting on the floor and cradling her in my lap. She sobbed and sobbed and it broke my heart. But all I could do was hold her close and rock her back and forth. I couldn’t bear to see my girl so devastated and heartbroken. The sounds coming from her little body were so full of pain that I started crying too.
We sat there bawling together until two big arms circled us both, lifting us off the floor.
Jess carried us to my bed, setting me and Rowen down gently before sliding in behind us. Then he wrapped us up again in his arms, giving us his strength and his warmth. I burrowed into his side while Roe clung to my chest, still sobbing.
After a while, I managed to get my own tears under control and started whispering to the top of Roe’s head, encouraging her to try and stop her own.
When she was finally cried out, she stayed tight in my lap. Her cheek was resting against my heart and she was looking over my shoulder to Jess.
“You okay, little bit?”
She nodded and sniffled.
“How about you, Freckles?”
“I’m okay.”
He lifted a hand to the side of Roe’s face. His big hand engulfed her tiny jaw as he gently stroked his thumb across her cheek, drying her tears.
“Don’t cry, Roe,” he told her.
“I miss my Papa Ben,” she said, crying again. “Mommy said he was in heaven with Gramma and the angels.”
