Page 48 of Fighter
Serafina
The next day, Ava looked at me over a glass of milk and rolled her eyes. My phone vibrated for the third time in thirty seconds.
With a sigh, I picked it back up.
Benjamin:Final thing, I swear! I forgot she has a dentist appointment Wednesday after school.
“Is that my dadagain?” she asked with teenager-like exasperation. I grinned and popped the last of a cookie in my mouth.
“You know it, sister.”
My phone gave another little buzz.
Benjamin:The insurance cards are in the top drawer.
Serafina:We've got this. I already knew about the dentist and I was the one that put the cards there. Take care of yourself and your family. Ava and I are enjoying cookies before we launch into homework and laundry, then a walk at the river.
Benjamin:Thank you, Sera. Seriously.
I sent him a heart emoji. While Ava had a huge gulp of milk, I followed a whim and sent a quick text to my brother. My parents had only been gone a full day, but I'd want to engage with him eventually. Text seemed like the first step, and he hadn't replied yesterday.
Serafina:Hey bro, just checking in. Mom made her killer pot roast and I have leftovers with your name on them. Stop by the Diner tomorrow and I'll have them for you.
Once that was sent, I shoved the phone into my back pocket with the thought that maybe Talmage didn't want to talk with me.
Ava gave me an expectant stare as she chewed through the last of her second cookie. A sleepless night separated me from what happened with Benjamin, and now that Ava peered me right in the eyes, I gratefully shoved those thoughts away. It seemed far easier to face her knowing I hadn't kissed her father. Wanted to, but hadn't.
Still dreamed about it, though.
“What do you want to do next?” I asked.
She hesitated. “I get to choose?”
“You bet.”
She grabbed a napkin and patted the milk off her lips while her gaze darted around the room. Nervously she asked, “Can we play with my dolls?”
“Sure.”
“Really?”
“Of course.”
Blinking, she just stared at me. One eyebrow rose. “You'll play with me?”
“I'm looking forward to it.”
Her head tilted back slightly, as if she wasn't ready to believe that, but she eventually slid off the stool and headed toward the stairs. Her bedroom awaited at the top, a six-year-olds best disaster of toys, doll clothes, and discarded sandals strewn around the room. She glanced over her shoulder, as if to make sure I actually followed.
When I folded myself on the floor near her dollhouse, she sat on her knees next to me. With a hand halfway to her favorite doll, she stopped again.
“Are you going to get on your phone while I play?”
“Nope.”
“Oh.” Her body relaxed a little. “Okay, well, I'll be the purple one. You be the one with the green dress. Pretend that we're at a tea party and the queen is gonna come and we're wearing our best dresses.”
I had to stifle twinges of both despair and love. First, she lived with an all-male father that couldn't comprehend this little-girl world. While he probably tried really hard, sitting down to play with dolls at a tea party had to be torturous. Secondly, I had a feeling that her Mom had left a cemetery of broken promises behind. Was Ava so suspicious of my plan to play with her because those promises had been made in the past, but never fulfilled?
