Page 100 of Imperfect Arrangement
“Yes, it—” My words falter as we step inside the cabin.
The interior is stunning. Soft pink paint covers the walls, while pastel green upholstery lines the seats. It’s cozy, inviting, perfect. But it’s the words written in beautiful cursive on the cabin wall that steal my breath.
The Best Therapy.
“I think it’s about to start,” Quill’s voice jolts me back into the moment, forcing me to push thoughts of Raymond and his extravagant gestures out of my mind. At least temporarily. I snap into action, securing the cabin door and making sure Captain Lick is settled. As the ride lurches forward, my heart hammers in my chest, a chaotic rhythm that’s impossible to ignore.
This ride—this simple Ferris wheel that has always been my calm zone—is stirring up a flurry of emotions today. Each slow creak of the machinery feels like a metaphor for the precarious balance of my own life. By the time we reach the top and the cabin halts, I’m holding my breath.
I glance at Quill, who sits beside me, completely at ease. “All okay?”
She nods, smiling as she gazes out at the view in front of us. Following her lead, I turn my attention to the scenery. The sky is a stunning expanse of clear blue, stretching endlessly above us. The hills surrounding Cherrywood stand like quiet sentinels, their trees just starting to shift to fiery reds and golds—a whisper of autumn’s arrival. It’s breathtaking, but my chest still feels tight.
“Will you teach me how to wish on a sunflower now?” Quill asks, breaking the silence.
A small smile pulls at my lips. She’d asked me the same question at home, and I’d taken her and Captain Lick to Grandpa Will’s kitchen garden and plucked two fully grown sunflowers and planted some new seeds. I reach into my purse and pull out the Ziplock bag where I’d carefully stored the two flower stems. I hold one in my hand.
“What I usually do is close my eyes and say the wish buried in my heart, and then I place the flower there.” I point to the metal hook on the cabin wall. “I used to think fairies visit this place at night to get them.”
“And what do you think now?”
My gaze drops to this little girl beside me. I might have grown out of my childhood beliefs a little, but Quill is still small, and believing that there’s someone out there who’s much more powerful watching over me has always given me strength.
“I think I still believe in it.” I hand one flower to her and her tiny fingers wrap around the stem. She stares at it for a few moments.
“Is everything okay, Quillbug?” I ask gently.
“Do you think my wish won’t come true if I say it out loud?” she whispers.
I pause, taking in her worried face and the way she holds the flower like it’s fragile and powerful all at once. “I think,” I begin carefully, “any wish that comes from the heart will be granted. It doesn’t matter if you keep it to yourself or share it with someone you trust. There’s no right or wrong way to wish, Quill. The only thing that matters is that you believe in it. Wishing is kind of like praying.”
She looks up at me, her green eyes searching mine, and I hope she finds whatever she’s looking for. A beat later, her lashes flutter closed as she takes a deep breath. She clutches the green stem of the yellow flower. Her words come out slow, raw, and unfiltered, and they hit me square in the chest.
“Dear Wish Fairy, I wish you don’t take anyone else from my life. I’m really happy right now. I don’t want to lose my dad. I don’t want to lose Willow. I don’t want to lose Grandpa Will. I don’t want to lose Captain Lick. I promise I’ll never be a bad girl and I’ll never say a bad word. But please, please don’t take anyone away. I also wish that I can stay in my dad’s house forever. I love it there, and he wrote my name on the porch, so now it’s kind of mine too.”
The air in the cabin seems to shift, growing heavier with every word. Her wish wraps around my heart, squeezing until it’s hard to breathe. She’s afraid of losing her loved ones, and don’t I understand that fear a little too well.
I’ve lived it. I’m still living it. In this moment, I feel utterly powerless. How do I tell her not to be afraid of something I’ve never been able to let go of myself?
How do I promise her that the people she loves won’t leave, when I’ve not allowed any new relationships in my life just to protect myself from the pain of losing them?
I watch her, this brave little girl who speaks her fears to a flower, and I realize that before I can ask Quill to let go of her fear, I have to let go of mine at least long enough that I don’t feel like a hypocrite.
I have to live one moment—at least one—without fearing the worst.
TONIGHT’S PLAN: SEX AND BOOZE
WILLOW
Isecure Captain Lick in his bag and click Quill’s seat belt into place. As I slide into the driver’s seat, my phone pings with a new text.
Raymond: Can you keep Quill away for another hour? We’re still not done.
I’m not surprised. When I left the house with Quill, Raymond and his cousins swooped in to set up the garden for her surprise birthday party tomorrow. I’d texted them sample pictures and a link to the Pinterest board I’d made. Even though they confirmed it’d be done on time, I knew they had their work cut out for them.
I glance out the window, debating whether to kill time back at the bustling shopping street. But the market is teeming with people, and the last thing I want is to navigate through the chaos with Quill and Captain Lick.
“Are we not going home?” Quill asks, her big green eyes locking on mine.
