Page 95 of Unstable

BY SOME MIRACLE, EVERYTHING’S actually ready when the King family arrives at the door with a fast, hard…never-ending knock.

I give Keaton a puzzled look and hurry to answer it, worried what all the commotion is about. For a split second, I wonder if it’s a crazed Merrick banging like that, so I check the peephole, seeing only two adults—neither one of them Merrick.

So I open it, and when I do, not only are my questions answered without a word, but my heart fills with a sudden, unexplainable sensation, to the point of overflowing. And I’m instantly in love. An immediate phenomenon beyond my conscious control.

There, looking up at me with the biggest pair of emerald green eyes I’ve ever seen, little balled-up fist still in the air ready to knock again, stands an angel. Well, stands is generous…she’s more bouncing in place. Too low to the ground to have been seen from the peephole, but the best of surprises.

“I’m Brooke King, and that’s my Mommy and Daddy,” she gushes, jerking a thumb over her shoulder at her parents, where they stand behind her, both wearing tight, apprehensive smiles. “We’re here to get our farm. Are you the farm lady? You don’t look sad. Mommy said the lady we’re coming to see might be sad, but you look real pretty and happy to me, so where’s the farm lady?”

“Brooke Marie King!” Her mom sternly cuts her off, then offers me an apologetic mix of a grimace and grin. “I’m so sorry, Henley. She’s…uh…a bit precocious. How are you? And thank you for having us.”

I don’t have a chance to respond to any part of what she said before Miss Priss, her sweet little head covered in red ringlets, precious chubby cheeks, and a mouth missing more teeth than not, is talking again.

“Henley? That’s your name? Then you are the farm lady! Hi, can I come in?”

I can’t contain my belly laugh, absolutely delighted by this tiny wonder, and step back, giving her the wide berth to waltz in that everything about her demands she be granted. “You certainly may. It’s so very nice to meet you, Brooke. And yes, I’m Henley, the farm lady.”

She walks inside as fast as she can without running, obviously mindful of manners she’s been taught, while her mother simply sighs and her father just shakes his head with a smile.

I motion for them to enter as well and Keaton joins us. After all the obligatory handshaking and a few more exchanged pleasantries, he shows them to the country kitchen then comes to help me carry in the food and drinks.

“Their daughter may very well be my new favorite person in the world,” I quietly tell him.

“Hey now,” he closes in behind me and wraps an arm around my waist, “she can’t just steal my title in five minutes,” he laughs good-naturedly.

“She’s a doll, Keaton. An absolute doll,” I whisper.

“You know,” he brushes his lips along my ear, “I can give you that. A daughter of our own.”

“That cute?” I laugh unbelievingly.

“Absofuckinglutely,” his adamancy gruff. “Baby, have you seen us?”

“Oh, here we go,” I laugh. “Stop while the food’s still hot. Here,” I hand him a platter, “take this in there.”

I grab the drinks and follow.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Bri starts to stand as soon as we rejoin them, “I need to go search down my daughter. Lord knows what she’s snooping through or breaking.”

“Um…” I stop her, shocked at myself – it just popped out of its own accord. “If it’s alright with you, I’d be happy to go find her. You sit, enjoy the meal.”

“I…if you’re sure. I don’t want her to be a bother,” Bri stammers.

“I’m sure, and no bother whatsoever. It’d be my pleasure,” I smile at her, not missing Keaton’s surprised look aimed at me out of my peripheral. “You all go ahead and start, Brooke and I will join you soon.”

And with that, I set out on my hunt, actually giddy with excitement. I just…simply can’t wait to see what she’s doing; to hear what she says next.

I’m not exactly sneaking through the house, but I’m not calling out her name either. My intention isn’t to catch her doing something wrong…in fact, it’s the polar opposite.

I want, more than almost anything, to wander upon her and watch her doing something right. Something childlike, innocent, purely for healthy curiosity and true enjoyment. Unencumbered by the woes of cynicism, judgment and expectation that always, inevitably, find you by the time you’re an adult.

From the moment I laid eyes on her, I felt an overpowering, fascinating bond with the little girl I currently seek. Perhaps it’s because she reminds me of myself at her age—curious and independent. Or more likely, it’s because she reminds me of everything I wasn’t for too long, I’m not now, nor will I ever be again.

They say youth is wasted on the young. Well they haven’t met Brooke.

After the longest game of hide and seek ever played, I finally find her…in the very last place I dare to look. And to look, I must push the door open further and enter, which I do—stunned when I realize there was a complete lack of hesitation on my part in doing so. Not a single, even slight, falter in my steps. Too preoccupied with finding her to get trapped inside my own head.

Yeah, I’m not imagining the baffling yet wondrous connection I somehow have with Brooke Marie King, ‘cause there’s no one or nothing else, not even Keaton, that could have me walking into this room so easily.

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