Page 3 of Undone

“You know she’s six, right?” I muttered, shaking my head, though I couldn’t help but smile. “Last I checked, I left you in charge.”

“She can be convincing. She’s got your mother in her like that,” he chuckled.

It had been two decades since my mother passed—long enough for the details to blur. I was just a boy, and as time went on, my memories splintered into fragments. I couldn’t piece together a single moment clearly, but damn, I never forgot how much she loved us. I shot my dad a quick smile, noticing the same wave of nostalgia washing over his face.

“Two sodas, huh? You’re not gonna sleep for a week,” I said, nudging her gently in the ribs.

Gracie giggled again, and I couldn’t help but pull her into a hug, breathing in the scent of bubblegum shampoo and scented markers.

There was something about being home with her that made everything seem right in the world.

“I made you something!” She wriggled free from my grip and rushed back to the pile of papers on the floor.

“See, look! It’s a horse, like the ones you fix!” She held up a drawing, the horse’s legs a tad short and its mane a rainbow of colors. It wasn’t exactly anatomically correct, but it was very impressive for a six-year-old.

“It’s perfect,” I said. “You’re getting good at this.” Her smile grew.

“Can we put it on the fridge?”

“Of course. Where else would it go?” I stood, taking the drawing and heading to the kitchen, where I stuck it to the fridge with a magnet shaped like a cow.

I turned back right in time to see her racing to grab another stack of markers.

“Daddy, can we do one together? I’ll draw the horse, and you can draw the barn!”

I glanced at the clock. It was getting late, and she was wired from all the sugar, but I found myself nodding anyway.

“Alright. One picture, then you’re off to bed.”

Gracie cheered, scrambling to get everything set up.

My dad pushed himself up from the chair and crossed the room. “She’s got you wrapped around her finger.”

“Yeah.” I glanced at her with a smile, shrugging without even bothering to hide it.

I’m pretty sure the day Gracie was born, my heart grew three sizes. As much as I tried to keep my life compartmentalized, to hold back parts of myself from the rest of the world, with her, I was completely open. Not many people could do that, but there were a few who managed to sneak in and leave their mark.

“Definitely wrapped around her finger.” My dad chuckled. “I’m heading out. I’ll see you both later.”

“Thanks, Dad,” I said. “Appreciate your help.”

Gracie scrambled to her feet and ran over to him. “Night, Papa!” she called, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug before scampering off.

He gave me a nod and slipped out the door. I sat down on the floor next to her, legs crossed and picked up a marker.

As we drew, she chatted away about her day—her friends, some new game she’d learned.

I listened, mostly content to hear her little voice fill the house. I wanted to imprint it to my memory and lock it away before she became sick of me in a few years.

She might have been growing up too fast, but those little moments slowed everything down and gave me something solid to hold on to.

Eventually, her marker strokes grew lazier. Her eyelids drooped as she let out a big yawn, even though she tried to fight it.

“Daddy, do you think… do you think I’ll be as good at drawing as you are at fixing animals one day?”

I smiled, leaning over to tuck a loose curl behind her ear. “You’ll be even better.”

She nodded sleepily, leaning against me. “Okay,” she whispered.

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