Page 8 of Griffin

Melody nods, grinning.“I did a garden, Daddy. It’s very pretty.”

“I can’t wait to see, baby.”

As we walk down to her classroom, Melody is silent, making me more anxious.

The odd times I saw her, she lost herself in her drawings, barely paying me attention.

Now I’m about to break her heart.

The classroom smells like they always do; paint and paper, and the window is open to let in some stale summer air. Tiny chairs sit beside slightly larger desks, and paintings hang from a cord by the window. Most kids had painted their families; one painted a house with a family outside, and the others were portraits.

But one is of a garden, and it is beautiful.

“That’s mine.” Melody points at the garden, and I step closer, admiring it.

“I like the red flowers. They’re beautiful, like you.” I glance down at my child, and she nods.

“Roses. Mommy said they’re the best.”

The teacher exchanges a look with me and then leads us to the carpeted area by her desk. To my surprise, Melody sits obediently, looking at the teacher expectantly.

“Why are we here, Mrs. Baxter?”

Mrs. Baxter pats the carpet for me to join them, and I wave a hand at my dirty clothes. “I’m sorry, I’m a builder … ”

“No matter,” Mrs. Baxter waves dismissively, licking her lips as she focuses on Melody.

“Melody, Daddy has something he needs to tell you.” Mrs. Baxter smiles at me reassuringly, and I clear my throat.

How do I say this?

“Baby,” I say, gazing at her chubby little hands that rest on her lap. Her wide brown eyes, mirror images of mine, stare ahead, not looking at any of us. “Mommy has been in an accident.”

Nothing.

Mrs. Baxter nods, and I reach out for Melody.

“Did you hear me, baby?”

Melody turns, nodding.

“Is she okay?”

I’m not qualified to do this. Is anyone?

“No, baby, she’s not.” My voice is thick with emotion, and Melody frowns.

“Is she in the hospital?”

Oh, fuck.

“She died, honey.”

Melody stares past me, her lips moving as though she’s repeating the words.

“Mommy died?” Her lower lip trembles, and my heart breaks in two. “My mommy?”

Mrs. Baxter finally speaks.

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