Page 38 of Quintessentially

It’s not like I slept much last night. All night long, I tossed and turned.

At first, I was shocked. As the night progressed, pissed would be a better description. It seems the whole damn world of Riverbend knows about my daughter and yet not one person—not even my grandmother—thought I should know. In all fairness, besides family, Cory is the only one I’ve truly stayed in contact with. And a text that said ‘your daughter lost her bottom front tooth’ would have sent my world spinning. I would have thought it was sent to the wrong person.

The truth is that my world is spinning.

This morning when the sun rose, I drove out to Ricky’s farm. For a few hours I was seventeen or eighteen again. While playing softball may not be like riding a bike, working hard is. Before nine a.m. the sweat was pouring off us and my blue jeans and socks were covered in burrs. By noon, I’d drunk a gallon of water and could have eaten a horse, and by two, my back was on fire. Not sunburn. I kept my shirt on. It was and is the muscles. My personal trainer and I will have words when I get back to Chicago.

I don’t care about the pain. I plan to be back tomorrow.

After a shower—the water heater is finally working—and a sandwich made with groceries I purchased yesterday, I went to the closet upstairs and checked the storage totes. I’m not sure why I didn’t look at them last night, other than last night I spent hours staring at pictures.

I imagined being with Kandace as Molly grew. I woke up thinking I was hearing a baby cry. Molly isn’t a baby. Molly grew from an infant to a toddler, to a child without me, without a dad.

Though I spoke with Mom last night, I haven’t heard from her or Dad today.

Everything about being a loving father I learned from the man who lived in this house.

Finally, my thoughts settled on something that I hadn’t considered.

When I was born, my parents and I lived in Oakmont. Grandpa and Grandma were here in Riverbend. They visited and we visited, but it wasn’t until I was a young teenager that I started spending my summers with them. Grandma Ruth never experienced with me what she got with Molly. I began to change my focus from how my having a daughter affects me to how it affected her.

In the pictures of Grandma and Molly, my grandmother is full of joy. It radiates from her soft brown eyes. Her smile is full, and I see the way she looks at her great-granddaughter. Kandace chose to let Grandma Ruth be a part of my daughter’s life. Molly knew the love of a great woman, more than one, but she was able to experience what I didn’t until I was older.

In the six years since Grandpa John died, Grandma Ruth lived. She loved. She had joy.

That revelation is something I want to thank Kandace for.

As soon as I opened the totes, I knew they contained the items Kandace was searching for. I could let her know and tell her to get them. There is the possibility that she could send Justin or her father. While Mr. Sheers was always nice to me, understandably, he may have changed his mind. Justin obviously has.

Driving down the lane behind the stores, I found Quintessential Treasures. As a kid, I used the back door more than the front. Of course, the door was locked. That was when luck suddenly found me.

Joyce came out of the back of the Main Street Diner with a bag of garbage for the dumpster and asked me what I was doing.

My answer was genuine. “Trying to do the right thing.”

She smiled. “Are your eyes open?”

I nodded. “My ears too.”

“What do you need?”

I explained the totes and boxes I had in the trunk and back seat. A minute or two later, she and a busboy from the diner were back with a key. Quietly, the three of us took the containers into the back room of the store. Beyond the curtain, we could see that the front was filled with patrons and Kandace and Chloe were busy tending to their needs.

Neither one saw us.

For a moment, I stood in the back room and took it all in.

In many ways, what I saw of Quintessential Treasures looked exactly as it had six or even fifteen years ago. In other ways, much like the house, there were changes.

After I left a note for Kandace, we all slipped out, and Joyce locked the door behind us.

“You didn’t tell me,” I said after the busboy went back to the diner. “She was there, and you didn’t say a word.”

“Not my place to tell you anything, Dax Richards. You’re a man. I’m happy you took the time to look and listen.”

“I think I’m scared.” I grinned. “I know I’m petrified.”

Joyce nodded. “Then you’re on the right track.”

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