Page 144 of One Touch

I flipped through the pages, my chest tightening at the sight of her messy handwriting and colorful illustrations. My little girl had created all of this? I couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride, mixed with a twinge of guilt for not having paid more attention to her project.

“Once upon a time,” I began reading aloud, “there was a daddy who was a mechanic.”

“Not a firefighter?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ava shook her head. “Not at the start, Dad. He has to go on a journey. That’s what Lily taught me. You start out with the characters kinda . . . ordinary.”

I swallowed hard at the mention of Lily’s name but pressed on. “The daddy worked all day and all night, fixing cars and trucks and sometimes even boats. The daddy had a little girl who was having trouble with her schoolwork. She couldn’t read the words right, and the letters got all jumbled up in her head.”

I paused, looking up at Ava. She was watching me intently, biting her lower lip.

“Is this about your Irlen Syndrome?” I asked gently.

She nodded. “Ms. Brown says it’s okay to write about it. That it might help other kids understand.”

I felt a lump form in my throat. “That’s really brave of you, Ava.”

Turning back to the story, I continued reading. “But then, a magical book fairy appeared! She had sparkly wings and could make words stay still on the pages.”

My voice caught. The book fairy. Lily. Of course.

“The fairy helps the little girl with her reading,” Ava explained, her voice soft. “And she gives the daddy time to follow his dream of becoming a firefighter.”

I held Ava close as I turned the page, revealing a breathtaking illustration of a starry night sky. “One night,” I read, my voice barely above a whisper, “the fairy and the family looked at the stars together.”

“The little girl made a wish on a shooting star,” Ava said, her finger tracing the glittery streak across the page.

“What did she wish for?” I asked, though I had a sinking feeling I already knew the answer.

She looked up at me, tears in her eyes. “She wished that the fairy and the daddy would fall in love and that they would be a big family together.”

I swallowed hard, feeling my own eyes start to burn. “Is that what you wished for, Ava? On our night together with Lily?”

“I can’t tell you, Daddy. If I do, it might not come true.”

I nodded and gave her a little squeeze, trying to hide the conflict raging inside me. How could I tell her that Lily wanted to cut off all communication? That the fairy in her story wanted to fly away and never come back?

Ava turned another page, revealing a riot of color. “The wish came true, and after they fell in love, they had a big wedding! With unicorn warriors and rainbow lions and lots and lots of baby fairies!”

She turned to a final page. The fairy, firefighter, and little girl were hugging, and a speech bubble was coming out of the little girl’s mouth: “Your my heero, Daddy.”

I felt devastated. I’d never cried at a book before.

“Are you all right, Daddy?” Ava said, looking up at me.

“Yeah. I’m perfect. You wrote a very moving book, Ava.”

“You’re crying.” She looked shocked. “You never cry.” Her own eyes were wrinkling, now, and tears welled in them. “What’s wrong?”

“Dads cry sometimes,” I said.

“Daddy,” she cried, “I want Lily back.” She buried her face in my chest.

“I know darling. I want her back, too.”

Ava looked up at me, her face streaked with tears. “Then why won’t you ask her?”

I took a deep breath, feeling my own eyes start to burn. “Because . . . I’m scared.”

---