Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
She exhausted herself early and finally crawled up beside me on the couch and fell asleep. I carried her to her room and kissed her on the forehead before I went to bed next door.
I’d promised Cynthia, my elderly neighbor, that I’d bring Star over for breakfast. She was the probably the closest resemblance to a local acquaintance I had in Buffalo, and lucky for me, she enjoyed our company.
Considering I was a prick to everyone around me, it was most likely Star’s company she enjoyed. Cynthia talked about loving children and wanting grandchildren of her own. Whatever it was I was grateful for her presence for Star’s benefit.
***
When we arrived at Cynthia’s place, Star was greeted with a blue-and-pink cake, with big icing flowers and a little plastic tiara on top.
“Wow. Did you make it yourself?” I let go of the birthday girl’s hand as she jumped up and down.
Star’s eyes grew big, and she hugged Cynthia who placed the cake on the small, round kitchen table that she’d done up with a pink tablecloth. Balloons and streamers hung over our heads, and I couldn’t help but feel gratitude for the woman’s efforts.
“Yes, sir. I used to teach cake decorating classes back in the day. There’s not a lot this old bird can’t do. I tell you, I was made to be a grandmother, but you can’t convince my kids of it. They’re so busy traveling the world and busy with careers, I’m not sure they’ll ever have kids.”
Cynthia Darling, who was in her late sixties, with grey hair, apple-round cheeks, and more spirit than most were blessed with, had welcomed me with open arms when I’d showed up next door. When I’d gotten Star, she’d gone into full grandma mode, and despite me offering, she wouldn’t take a penny for her help.
“You’re going to spoil her.” I let loose a laugh as I saw the stack of presents that Star ran over to inspect.
Cynthia leaned in close. “She needs to know it’s a special day, and that she has people here who love her. Besides, is that a new doll? I thought you were buying her a kitchen set?”
“I did, but I thought a doll might also be a new friend. One who couldn’t leave, who she wouldn’t have to say goodbye to.” I whispered to Cynthia.
“Smart thinking.” Cynthia turned her head to watch Star who inspected the table next.
“She talked to her last night. I could hear her through the walls. Ask her its name.” About that time the timer went off, and Cynthia walked over to pull a breakfast casserole out of the oven.
She placed it on the counter and then turned to Star. “Who is this beautiful friend you’ve brought today?”
Star smiled and took the chair, which had a few streamers and balloons taped to it. She had placed her doll in the chair beside hers. “Jackie,” she said softly, smiling to show off her missing front tooth.
“Jackie? That’s a gorgeous name. Did you know there once was a beautiful queen of Camelot name Jackie? I’ll have to tell you about her sometime.” She turned and gave me a wink as she opened a stack of pink and blue plates.
After we ate, and Star had opened her gifts, which turned out to be two new outfits, and three play sets full of everything she needed to accessorize her new kitchen, she busied herself on the floor as I stared out the window sipping coffee at Cynthia’s table.
“Thank you for everything you did. You really didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”
“Are you kidding me son? This stuff makes my day. But hey, you look like you’ve got a lot on your mind.” The old woman took the seat next to me and added cream to her coffee and I took a deep breath. For some reason Cynthia was one of the few people who could get me to open up and actually say more than an obligatory few words.
“Yeah, I talked to the school. I have to find someone who can tutor Star in reading. They said she needs someone with experience to give her the attention she deserves. They don’t want her to fall behind, and I sure don’t either.”
“Some kids just bloom later than others, but that doesn’t mean much. She’s been through a trauma, and once she gets used to a stable environment, and sees that this is forever, she’ll come around.”
“Yeah, but by then, she might be too far behind to catch up. I can’t help feeling useless. I wish I could just make it all better right now.”
“You do what’s best at the moment. No parent knows exactly what’s best for their kids every single time. It’s barely more than trial and error.”
That was a relief to hear. I’d been doing that since I’d brought Star home; flying by the seat of my pants.