Page 37 of The Captain's Little Girl

When everyone was set with their selection, Hope continued, “We’re going to make knots to hold memories close to us. I’m going to read something, and I want you to picture that scene in your mind and tie it into the string. Ready?” She unfolded the paper, holding it close to her heart so no one could read ahead.

“Picture the first time you saw your daddy.” Hope set the list down and thought for a minute before tying her cord into a knot close to one end. The others, upon seeing her example, followed suit and created their own knots.

Cricket looked around the circle as the others fondled that first bump on the line. She rolled it between her fingers and felt herself smile. She’d never forget seeing the silver fox in his fatigues that first time. Getting to know him became her newest goal.

“For the next one, remember his reaction the first time you called him Daddy.” Hands twisted the thin rope to hold on to that memory.

As Hope spoke, Cricket focused on all the incredible moments she’d spent with her daddy already. It helped ease some of the worry that had built inside her. She found herself smiling instead of struggling not to feel like a part of her was missing.

By the time the women had helped each other tie the bracelets on their wrists, a series of precious bumps decorated each one. Cricket ran her hand over hers and watched as everyone did the same. She looked at Hope and saw a tender expression on her face as she rubbed the soft cord.

Cricket waited until Hope looked up before calling her name quietly, “Hope.”

When her friend met her gaze, Cricket added, “Thanks.” Everyone echoed her appreciation.

“I’ll buy the cord next time if Hope will lead us through this again,” River suggested.

“When we run out, we’ll take turns,” Hope said with a nod before stifling a yawn.

“That’s our cue to go home,” Ember announced and stood to help clean up the leftover ends of string they’d trimmed off after attaching the bracelets.

Cricket got into her car and knew where she needed to go. Driving the short distance to Mark’s house, she parked her car in its normal spot before walking into the quiet home. It looked just as it always did—military neat and ordered with the addition of a few of her things scattered here and there. Cricket walked into the kitchen and stood in front of the refrigerator. Mark had hung two pages she’d decorated and torn carefully from a coloring book. He’d loved the colorful designs and praised her artwork.

Please be okay.Cricket fumbled with the knots on the bracelet and tried to focus on positive thoughts.

Finally, she forced herself out of the kitchen and down the quiet hallway. Stripping off her work clothes, she jumped into the shower and used Mark’s body wash instead of the floral scent she usually preferred. Her yawns forced her out of the warm spray. Dressed in his T-shirt, Cricket climbed into bed and curled up on his side to sleep on Mark’s pillow. His scent still clung to the fabric. Wrapping her hand around the bracelet of sweet memories, she fell asleep.

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