Page 37 of Single Mom's Daddies
She crouches beside me, holding the jar she’d carried out like it’s made of glass. Alex nudges her shoulder and points. “There,” he says. “Under the leaf.”
I lean in. And there it is—pale green, perfectly shaped, suspended like it’s defying gravity. A chrysalis. Something caught between what it used to be and what it’s going to become.
The chrysalis glows faintly in the sunlight, pale green and gold-edged, like something sculpted out of air and hope. It barely looks real. Mila sets her jar gently on the ground like she’s afraid to scare it off, even though it isn’t going anywhere. Alex leans so close I’m amazed he doesn’t fog the thing up with his breath. “How long till it hatches?” he whispers.
“Why are you whispering?”
“I don’t wanna wake him.”
That makes me smile. “You don’t need to worry about that. You couldn’t wake him if you wanted to. He doesn’t have ears right now.”
“Oh.”
“And it could be a few days,” I say. “Could be a couple weeks. Depends on how close it is.”
Mila eyes it like she’s already timing it on an invisible stopwatch. “So it just stays like that?”
“It stays like that while it changes on the inside.”
“But it’s not moving,” she says.
I nod. “That doesn’t mean nothing’s happening.”
She stares at the chrysalis a second longer, then says, “You said it melts, right?”
I nod again.
“All the way?”
“Pretty much. All the caterpillar parts break down. Then it rebuilds itself into something new.”
“From goo,” Alex adds, solemn.
“Exactly,” I say, smiling.
Mila frowns. “That sounds like it would hurt.”
“I don’t believe so.” I’m not sure how to explain this… “When you stub your toe?—”
“You say bad words!” Alex says, giggling.
Mile scowls. “Just that one time!”
“Right,” I say, trying not to laugh. “It hurts, because you have nerves all through your body that tell your brain things like if something is hot or cold, bumpy or smooth, all of that. You have nerves, because you’re whole. The butterfly in the chrysalis doesn’t have nerves yet.”
“So, it can’t feel anything?”
I nod. “That’s the theory.”
She chews her bottom lip. “Is it scared?”
“I don’t know.” But I wonder. I look at the chrysalis again. And I wonder if that’s what’s happening to me. Reforming, turning into something new. Someonenew.
I don’t get carried away. That’s not me. But it was last night.
The kids watch it in silence for a long minute, and I let them. Some things don’t need to be rushed. Some things you just…sit with.
Then Mila says, “Daddy’s like that.”
