Page 5 of The Christmas Mittens
“I don’t know, but I sure would like to find out.”
Maybe me and Pastor Pete could form some sort of team to investigate this odd but intriguing stranger. The Mechanic and the Reverend solve the case of the Man in the Blue Coat at nine p.m. on the Grouse Falls Public Access channel.
Or maybe you could get back to work and stop pretending you’re Mannix.
Yeah, that was probably the better option.
That niggle lingered all day. It clung to me as I stopped at the church to hand over the cash, through the evening, and didn’t stop when I was in bed staring at the ceiling of my bedroom. Tomorrow, if Blue Coat Man stopped, I would be more prepared. What I planned to do was yet to be revealed to me, but it would be something stellar and would make Ellery Queen jealous.
***
While dreaming of cracking the case of Blue Coat Man, I came awake to the creaking of the bathroom door. Half asleep, I rolled onto my side to check the clock. It read 10:17 p.m. in bold red numbers that made me squint. Gilda could be heard rustlingaround in the cupboards as she sniffled. Was she crying? Had she vomited? Anytime she threw up, she wept, understandably, as I also wanted to cry whenever vomit flew out of my nose. Tossing your cookies was truly disgusting. My dad worry kicked in. I tossed back the covers, turned on the bedside lamp, and slid my feet into my slippers.
The bathroom was just across the hall from my room. I tapped lightly on the closed door.
“Gil, honey, are you okay?” I softly called and waited for her to start whimpering as she usually did when she was ill.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” She didn’t sound fine. She sounded tense. I took a second to decide on my next course of action. The girl wasn’t exactly a baby now. If she had an upset stomach, she could take some Pepto and go back to bed. She didn’t need Daddy to rub her tummy while humming lullabies. Those days were over. “Dad?”
I was just about to return to my room when the plaintive query floated out to me in the hall.
“Yeah, I’m here. Do you need me to get you some seltzer water or anything?” I rested my shoulder against the jamb.
“No, I…” She was just on the other side of the door now. “I need something else.”
“Oh, okay. Well, I think we have crackers. And some ginger ale. That usually helps. I told you not to eat all those—”
“Dad, no, oh my God!” she snapped. I took a deep breath. “I don’t need stupid ginger ale. I need other things. You know.”
I didn’t know. Did not have a clue. “Do you need some ice?” Hell, maybe she fell out of bed and sprained her wrist.
“Dad, seriously, I do not need ice, okay?! I need pads. I got my period.”
An elephant falling out of the sky and landing on my head wouldn’t have stunned me as much as those four final words had. That wasn’t possible. She wasn’t nearly old enough. Wasshe? No, she couldn’t be. Just a few months ago, she’d learned how to walk. No, I just…well shit. This was something I knew would come eventually, but I didn’t think it would come when she wasn’t even thirteen yet. Shit. Okay. I could handle this. I was a great dad.
“Okay then, wow, that’s a big step, Gilda. You’re really growing up. I’d high-five you, but the door is closed, so I’ll knuckle bump the door.” And I did. I had no clue where I was going with all of this. Gilda giggled, just a little, on the other side of the door. “I’ll run to the drugstore and pick up some things for you. I should have done that sooner. My bad. You just relax…oh, and take some Advil. Sometimes getting your period makes you achy and have cramps. When I get back, we’ll have some cocoa and talk. How does that sound?”
“Yeah, that sounds okay.” I pushed off the doorjamb. “Dad, it’s not your fault we didn’t have period stuff. I know boys are clueless about that kind of thing.”
That made me snigger. “Boys are clueless about a lot of things, buttercup. I’ll be back in a flash.”
“Okay, thanks, Dad.” She sounded okay. So I darted to the door, pulled on my coat, and made a mad run to the car. It was cold and the windshield was frosty, but I put the pedal to the metal anyway, driving to the next county to a large retail chain where I grabbed four packages of pads from the shelves. The packaging looked familiar to what Katie had used, so I went with it. The older woman at the checkout gave me a sleepy look.
“My daughter just got her first cycle,” I explained. She nodded and gave me a smile of understanding.
“She’ll be fine. You might want to grab a chocolate bar.”
I bought five. Then I rode home. The hole in the frost that I’d made was now gone, and the windshield was clear. I’d not felt an ounce of embarrassment buying sanitary products. Why should I? It was a natural part of being female. God, my baby was ayoung woman now. I felt a little teary about that but sniffed the emotions into my sinuses. Gilda needed me to be calm and comforting. I ran over the curb as I pulled into my driveway twenty minutes later.
I found the bathroom door still closed but could hear Gilda talking to someone. I gently knocked. “Hey, kitten, I have your package. I’ll just leave it outside the door and start the hot chocolate.”
“Thanks, Dad. I’m talking to Merrilyn.”
Ah, one of her drama club girlfriends. “Tell her I said hello.”
Off I went to the kitchen, mind whirling with a thousand things as I filled the pretty pink teapot Katie had found at a garage sale. The gas flames burst to life, blue fire under the kettle, and I took a moment to draw in a breath that filled my lungs. Life sure was funny.
By the time the kettle came to a boil, Gilda was exiting the bathroom. I sat at our gouged and paint-stained table with two cups of cocoa. Beside her cup was a candy bar as well as a tiny plastic frog that had been in a bowl at the checkout counter.
