Page 37 of The Scars I Bare
When I clicked on it, my eyes narrowed in on the sender. I didn’t recognize it at first. The email address was something abstract. Nothing straightforward like mine, which happened to just be my name.
“SmartieBeachGirl5.” I chuckled. “Someone really needs to change their email address.” I laughed, feeling pretty amused until I began reading the email.
Dear Dean,
This is Lizzie.
Lizzie Ashcroft.
I found your email address on one of the small cards in the office you took me to when I needed to go to the bathroom when we were at the docks today. It had your name on it, so I figured it was yours.
Thanks for lunch. Mommy and I had a fun time eating the fish with our fingers. I think we would have had more fun eating with you though.
That’s why I’m writing you.
My mommy and I moved here to get all new things.
New house, new school. She even said I’d get new toys since I couldn’t take most of mine.
But I don’t really care about toys.
I just want a new Mommy.
Not a different one. Just a happier one.
Mommy was not happy in our old house, but I think she can be here, in our new house and our new town and with new friends.
Will you be my mommy’s friend? I want her to smile again.
Please?
Lizzie
P.S. Can you keep my email address a secret? Mommy would get mad at me if she knew, and I really like talking to you.
I stared at the email for a solid half hour, a mixture of wonder and panic washing over me. I was in awe of this kid. I had been since the moment she popped up from under that desk at the medical clinic. She was beyond her years in so many ways. Not just in academics, but emotionally, too. She saw things most adults spent eons trying to figure out. Or ignore.
She knew her mother was sad.
I wonder what else she knew.
What else she’d seen.
Cora and I had had a rough go of it. So many false starts at this thing called friendship and even a rougher start when I’d tried to make it more.
But, for this little girl, I’d do anything.
No, for this little girl and her mother, I’d move mountains. Starting with a few files, friendship, and a fresh cup of coffee.
Hello Blogiverse,
Did I spell that right? Is that even a thing—spelling a made-up word right?
Who knows? Anyway, it’s finally official!
We’re married!
That’s right. You can now call me Mrs. Handsome Devil!
