Page 122 of Imperfect Arrangement
Quill’s eyes go wide. “Scared of you?” she signs, and despite everything, a hoarse chuckle escapes me.
“Not exactly me.” I brush her hair back. “She’s scared of losing us.” She’s scared of staying, of believing this is real, of what might happen if she lets herself need us and it all disappears.
Quill tilts her head, her forehead scrunching in thought. “How do we make her less scared, Daddy?”
The million-dollar question.
“I don’t know, sweetheart.” My chest tightens. “But if you have any ideas, I’m all ears.”
She doesn’t answer right away, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip, her little face scrunched in deep concentration. I wasn’t expecting my little girl to have all the answers, but just knowing she wants to help makes the tightness in my chest loosen—if only a little.
Then, her face brightens. “Can we go to the Ferris wheel, Daddy?”
I glance at the clock. “You want to go…now?”
She nods eagerly.
I know Quill and Willow have their thing with the Ferris wheel, but I’ve never been invited into that part of their world before.
“I know what we need to do to make Willow less scared, Daddy.”
I stare at my daughter, her determined little face, the absolute conviction in her eyes, and I realize I’d do anything if there’s even the smallest chance it would bring Willow back.
“Okay. Let’s get ready.”
* * *
Less than an hour later,I’m standing outside the ticket booth with my daughter’s hand in mine. The lights from the Ferris wheel glow, spinning in slow, steady circles.
Decent Joe lifts a brow when he sees us. “This is a surprise. I didn’t expect to see the Teagers without Willow.”
“Hi, DJ,” I say. “Yeah, it’s just us today.”
Quill tugs on my hand and signs, “We need the special cabin, Daddy.”
I relay the request to Decent Joe. “We would like to get on Willow’s special ride.”
He nods and scratches his beard, studying us for a beat before nodding. “Sorry, Raymond, but you guys will have to wait for a while. The wheel does not stall at every ride.”
“We’re not in a rush.” I guide Quill to a nearby bench. “Do we need to call Willow from here? Or…?”
I have no idea how coming here is bringing Willow back into my life. But Quill shakes her head, hugging her little yellow backpack to her chest.
When our turn finally comes, we step into the cabin. The Ferris wheel climbs higher, and when it finally stops at the top, the slight jolt makes me tense.
“It’s okay, Daddy.” A small hand rests on mine, as if she’s grounding me. I turn to look at my daughter, the tiny girl who despite her fears is now comforting me. “The ride is very safe.”
I think about how Willow must have said the same thing to my daughter the day they met.
“Thanks, Bug.” I squeeze her hand. “Now, how do we bring Willow home from here?”
She unzips her backpack and pulls out two sunflowers wrapped carefully in a plastic bag.
“We need to make a wish,” she signs. “I’ll go first so you can see how it’s done. But Willow told me there’s no wrong way to make a wish. It’s like a prayer. So don’t worry too much, Daddy. You just have to do it with your heart.”
My heart beats so fast that I think it’ll rip out of my body. I always saw Quill as someone I needed to protect. I didn’t realize that in my need to keep her safe from everything, visible or invisible, I was probably smothering my daughter. But Willow…she gave her space to be herself, to find her own strength.
One thing is sure—if my daughter believes this wish is a way to bring Willow back, to erase her fears, I’m going to wish with all my heart. I watch as she holds the sunflower close, taking a deep breath before speaking.
