Page 22 of Finders Keepers

I pinch the bridge of my nose as I finish up cooking the eggs, and that’s when I hear the soft creak of the bedroom door opening. I take a deep breath, hiding the anxiety with a smile and prepare to greet my daughter.

She appears in the kitchen, rubbing her eyes, squeezing Mr. Hoppy at her side. I place my phone down on the kitchen counter and turn.

“Good morning, sunshine,” I say, amazed at how steady my voice sounds. “Look what I’m making!”

Her eyes light up at the sight of breakfast. “Bacon!” she exclaims.

“Bacon aaaaaaaand eggs.” I try to add as much cheerfulness into my words but deep down I’m about to burst into tears.

“And guess what else?” I say, flipping over the pieces of bacon. “Ms. Lucy just called. She’s taking us to a fair tonight!”

“Really?” Sophie bounces up and down, all traces of sleep gone. “Can I go on the rides?”

“I’m sure there will be plenty of rides to try.” I smooth her messy hair, trying to focus on her excitement rather than the knot of anxiety in my stomach about Matt.

I walk into the living room and turn on cartoons for her while she waits for breakfast to finish cooking, and I can’t help but glance at my phone again as I transfer the last of the bacon onto the paper toweled plate. Emma’s text about Matt glares like a warning. He’s looking for us, and he’s angry.

He thinks I had no right to take Sophie away from him?

The thought stirs feelings up inside me that I don’t know how to process quite yet. My fingers clench around the spatula as I plate Sophie’s scrambled eggs.

No right to protect my daughter from a man who threw me into walls? Who smashed plates when dinner wasn’t perfect? Who made his daughter cry herself to sleep with his shouting?

But a small voice in the back of my mind is quick to whisper:Maybe if you’d been a better wife… if you’d kept the house cleaner… if you’d had dinner ready on time…

I shake my head hard, dispelling those thoughts.

I glance at Sophie now, curled up on the couch with Mr. Hoppy, completely absorbed in her cartoons. Her blonde hair catches the morning light, and she’s humming softly to herself. She looks… peaceful. The dark circles under her eyes from those sleepless nights are finally fading.

This is what a child should look like. Not the scared little girl who used to flinch at sudden movements, who would go silent whenever she heard heavy footsteps.

I’m doing the right thing. I’m her mother, the one who kisses scraped knees, who reads bedtime stories, who holds her through nightmares. The one who notices when she’s scared or sad, who celebrates her drawings, who makes sure she feels loved every single day.

He might be her father on paper, but he gave up any right to call himself a parent the first time he made her cry in fear.

I release a heavy sigh and make a mental note to talk to Ms. Lucy about Matt. She needs to know everything. She needs to know that he’s looking for us, that there’s a chance he could possibly show up here. The thought of having that conversation makes my stomach churn. Maybe she knows a good lawyer who can advise me on the steps I need to take to divorce him.

My heart pounds as we merge into the crowd, my grip tightening on Sophie’s small hand. The sheer number of people makes my chest constrict. Families brushing past, teenagers in laughing groups, couples holding hands. Too many faces, too many strangers.

The setting sun makes everything have a warm golden glow, the bright lights are beginning to shine brighter against the darkening sky.

“Mama, look at all the pretty lights!” Sophie squeals, tugging at my hand. Her two braids, which I carefully wove before we left, bounce on her shoulders with each excited hop. She’d been so proud to leave Mr. Hoppy “guarding our castle,” as she put it, though it took some convincing that he’d be safer at home than with us at the fair.

“I told you it was something special.” Ms. Lucy quips. “Now, first things first, we need some proper fair food!”

The fairgrounds are packed with what seems like the entire town.

It’s then I look down at Sophies eyes sparkling brighter than the carnival lights. It anchors me, reminds me why we’re here. The air is filled with laughter, the live country music playing on a stage further into the area, and the enticing smells from different food vendors swarm around us.

We follow her towards a stall sporting a massive yellow colored sign with red font advertising “Footlong Corndogs and Twister Fried Potatoes only $3.00.” After we get through the line, I’m left holding a giant corndog, golden and slathered in mustard, which Sophie and I take turns biting into.. We start walking through the grounds taking in all the things to do. Various games with all sorts of plushie animals to win, I know Soph will want to try and win something. There’s lots of rides too that she’s not big enough for yet, but there’s the carousel and a slide where the younger kids sit on a burlap sack that she would enjoy.

“Can I have the rest Mommy?” Sophie looks up at me and the corndog I’m holding.

“Yes baby, you can.” I say handing it to her and she finishes the final bit that’s left on the stick, handing it back to me I toss the wooden stick and paper plate into a garbage bin nearby and dust my palms against my jeans to brush away the lingering crumbs.

“Oh, Bailey, Sophie, come meet some friends of mine.” Ms. Lucy calls out, waving to a couple standing near a ticket booth. She guides us over to them. “These are the Hendersons. They own that darling new little coffee shop downtown, The Daily Grind.”

I feel my steps falter as Ms. Lucy guides us toward the couple. My throat tightens, and I instinctively pull Sophie closer to my side.

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