Page 67 of Before You Can Blink
“Sorry to hear. I’ll keep her in my thoughts.”
“Appreciate it.” She ducked her head. “Now, what can I get for the rest of your family?”
A sparkling red poinsettia caught my eye, and even though it wasn’t a daisy, it was a flower nonetheless, and I selected it for my wife. For me, I chose a ball-shaped ornament featuring a painting of the nativity scene.
When it came to picking one for Tripp, I consulted Aspen. “What should we get for your brother?”
“Tripp wants a horsey too!” she exclaimed so close to my ear that it caused me to flinch.
Scanning the offerings, I was unable to locate a second horse ornament. “Sorry, honey. I think you got the only horsey.”
I looked to Rose, who quickly confirmed, “Your daddy’s right. Only one horsey, and you were lucky enough to snatch it up before anyone else.”
“How about this one?” I held up a snowman.
Aspen lifted one shoulder in an indifferent shrug. Clearly, if it wasn’t a horse, she wasn’t interested.
“Guess that’s what I get for asking a three-year-old,” I joked with Rose.
Fishing in my wallet, I pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and placed it in the donation jar. I wished I could give more, but that’s all we could afford to spare. It would have to be enough that Daisy was among the volunteers tasked with organizing and wrapping gifts for the families in need this holiday season.
Rose smiled warmly. “Merry Christmas, Jett. Tell Daisy I’ll see her on Sunday.”
“Will do.” I tipped my hat before gathering up the ornaments for my family. “Merry Christmas to you and yours, and I hope that your little one is feeling better soon.”
Weaving through the crowd once more, I made it to where Daisy bounced a restless Tripp.
“Mama, look! I got a horsey!” Aspen exclaimed when we got close enough.
Putting on an exaggerated show of interest, Daisy gushed, “Ooh! A horsey? Your favorite!”
“I got the only one,” she declared proudly.
“Well, aren’t you the luckiest little girl this Christmas?” she cooed at our daughter. “Why don’t you come, have a seat, and drink your hot chocolate before it gets cold?”
I set Aspen down on the high-top chair, keeping a hand locked over her thighs so she didn’t shift too far toward the edge and fall off. That girl was carrying on an animated, one-sided conversation with her brother, who couldn’t be bothered to care about anything she had to say, when the lights on the street dimmed, and the announcement came that the tree lighting was only minutes away.
Not in any hurry to be packed in like sardines, I suggested to my family, “Let’s watch from here, then wait ’til the crowd clears to put on our ornaments.”
Daisy nodded her agreement, prompting our daughter, “That sounds like a good idea, doesn’t it?”
Aspen was too busy stuffing sugar cookies into her mouth to respond. I’d have to cut her off soon or else she’d be up all night with a stomachache.
Beckoning Daisy closer as the countdown began, I curled my free arm around her waist, pulling her into my side.
Those gathered chanted the final seconds in unison. “Five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one!”
Like magic, the lights illuminated from the bottom to the top of the giant tree until they reached the glittering star at the highest point.
Cookie crumbs dusted Aspen’s parted lips as she stared wide-eyed at the brilliant display.
“Wow.”
It might’ve only been a single word, but it was uttered with such wonder that it made me want to preserve her innocence, to protect her from the harsh realities of this world. Having been chewed up and spit out by life, I wasn’t naïve enough to believe that was possible. She would grow up someday and be forced to navigate whatever path she chose for herself.
But I knew one thing for certain: I would always be there to catch her when she fell, offering a shoulder to cry on until she worked up the courage to try again.
As many times as she needed.
