Page 111 of Saving Sophia

He helped me out of the car just as Aunt Carol came bustling out through the screen door.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” she asked, a huge, welcoming grin on her face. “I wasn’t expecting you?”

She pulled me into a wonderful hug while Daddy grabbed the box from the back.

“We have a gift for you, Aunt Carol,” he called out. “Kind of a belated Mother’s Day present.”

“You’re getting married?” she squealed, clapping her hands together with glee.

My cheeks turned bright pink, but Daddy just laughed. “Not today.”

She gave a tisking sound and led us inside. Daddy set the box on her kitchen table.

“A baby?” she asked with hope in her eyes. “I’m progressive, I can handle it if the baby comes first.” She winked at me when I squirmed.

Daddy pulled me in and kissed me on the head, laughing even more. “Would we have a baby in a box?” He pointed to the big white box.

“Fine,” she scoffed, her eyes sparkling. “But you didn’t need to get me anything.”

“This isn’t something we got,” he said, watching as her brows raised in question. “Sophia was able to rescue something … someone special to you.”

Her mischievous grin faltered, just a fraction, and my nerves revved up again. What if she hated what I’d done? She was so different from before.

I bit my lip and twisted the toe of my converse against the bright yellow tiles of the kitchen floor. “It’s not … it’s okay if you don’t …”

“Just open the box, Aunt Carol,” Daddy encouraged softly.

She reached out her hands, fingers tracing the edges of the box as if she were almost afraid to see what was inside. She pulled off the lid carefully and set it aside. She folded back one layer of silver tissue paper, and then the next, until the box lay fully open before her.

The dress fanned out, the shades of yellow, gold, orange, red and black in strips of silk shimmered against the tissue, showing glimpses of her legs. The original burn marks now wrapped in intricate swirling tattoos from her ankles to her thighs. Her hair sparkled in a blend of shocking scarlet, vibrant orange, glittering gold and a small percentage of iridescent tinsel that gave the illusion of a flame’s flickering light.

Aunt Carol picked her up and held her reverently, revealing the gossamer wings I’d fashioned to work with the damage to her torso and back. They arched triumphantly up on either side of her body, just short of touching over her head, morphing from glowing red and lightening to a soft pink at the very tips of the feathered edges.

“Caroline,” she whispered, staring at the doll and then at me. “You did this?”

I bit my lip nervously. “She’s a Phoenix,” I said. “The fire … hurt her, but she wanted you to know she survived it. That she is stronger than the flames that tried to take her.”

I tried to gauge her response. Did she think I was crazy? Did I ruin her doll? I looked to Daddy, but he was watching Aunt Carol too, his eyes soft and full of love.

“You knew about this?” Aunt Carol looked at him, and I realized she was crying. He nodded and handed her a tissue.

“I don’t know what to say,” she said after dabbing at her eyes.

“I know she’s different,” I said. “The damage was too much to simply restore her.”

“She told you she wanted to look like this?”

I looked at the floor. “I mean, that’s kind of … how I do it …” It sounded so crazy out loud.

Aunt Carol gently laid her back in the box and took my hands in hers. “That sounds exactly like something she would say.” She beamed at me and pulled me in for a warm motherly hug I’d been waiting for my whole life. “She’s perfect. And so are you.”

A box of Kleenex or two later, we walked down Aunt Carol’s driveway to the SUV. She stood at the door, waving to us and still dabbing at her eyes. Just before Daddy put me in and buckled me tight, I heard her whistle, low and clear. I recognized it but couldn’t place it. I was never going to win this game. Daddy paused, tilting his head for a moment before he broke into a grin.

“OneRepublic. Good Life.” He turned back and touched his chest, pulling his hand from his heart toward her in a little wave. “I agree, Aunt Carol. I agree.”

* * *

The drive wasn’t long and soon we were heading up the path to our spot by the waterfall. I clung to his hand in the fading daylight. The roaring water sound started far away, building as we approached. We rounded the bend and there it was, in all its wild and rushing glory, the larger lake behind spreading out in its wake. It was exquisite. But that’s not what stopped me in my tracks.

---