Harris gave a small smile. “Obviously. “How was it possible for her to forget the child who brought her marigolds every day?”She recalled me.
The years that separated us suddenly came to an end.You were acquainted with me? I applied pressure.
Harris gave the cedar chest at the foot of the bed a nod. “Open the top drawer.”
A small doll created from candy wrappers with twisted silver arms and a pink skirt was inside, wrapped with tissue.I exhaled, “I made this.”
Harris smiled a little, sorrowfully, as though he had been anticipating this moment for years. “You gave it to Catherine the day your aunt and uncle took you away.””Open the top drawer.”
The space became hazy. I had flashbacks to that afternoon. Shortly after I recovered from pneumonia, my parents died in an accident. My uncle and aunt came to get me. I didn’t know how to say goodbye, so I stood by the cab with the wrapping doll in one hand and a bundle of marigolds in the other, shoving both into Catherine’s arms.
Harris had been clean-shaven at the time, his face visible and unmistakable. Years later, half of it was covered by the beard, the remainder had been altered by time, and I had never once considered looking twice.
Harris dabbed at his eyes. “That doll has been with Catherine for a long time. Every spring, when the marigolds blossomed, she brought it outside.
He waited silently while I sobbed into the handkerchief.
I had never once considered taking another look.
“I started wondering about you when I saw you teaching the kids to make wrapper dolls after Halloween,” he added after some time. You then forgot your wallet in the living room one day. When I took it up, it opened. I noticed the antique picture within. You and your parents. The same grin. The same eyes.I blinked through my tears as I murmured, “So that’s how you knew.”I knew that way.
With a gradebook in my hand, Harris had been silently carrying my childhood as I passed him every day.Harris, why didn’t you tell me earlier?”With a faint, weary smile, he continued, “I didn’t want sympathy.” “I was just… glad you never changed.”Harris, why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
The boots, the umbrella, and his statement that “I never changed” all crossed my mind.And when you said your wife was waiting for you last night,” I muttered.
Harris turned to face the photo of Catherine below in the corridor. “I really did mean it. Every room in this house has her.”
We sat in silence as I held his hand. Once certain truths arrive at their intended destination, they don’t require additional words.
I put soup on the stove, prepared Harris tea, and scrawled my number on a notebook near the bed before I left.If you need anything, give me a call.Every room in this house has her.”
He glanced at the number before turning to face me. “You’re bossy enough to be somebody’s daughter.”
I forced a trembling smile. “Excellent. “Get used to me.”
Harris reclined on the pillows. “I think Catherine would’ve liked that.”
I had to stop twice on the way home because I was crying so much.
After Dan came back a week later, we returned with three new pairs of boots, groceries, medication, and a bulky winter coat.
Harris, looking better, opened the door. He sighed as though he realized resistance was pointless after taking a quick glance at the boxes in Dan’s arms.Excellent. “Get used to me.”
Dan raised a sack. “I am merely the delivery person. The ringleader is her.
Harris smiled a tiny bit at that.
He did not touch the boots; he just gazed at them. “I don’t know.”
I gingerly picked up the old, taped boots. “To commemorate Catherine, you are not required to wear these. They can be wrapped, preserved, and placed in a remembrance box. You don’t have to continue injuring yourself in order to keep kids safe.
Harris touched the leather of one of the new boots with his thumb. “I never thought of it that way.”Harris, consider it that way now.
He gave a slow nod. “All right.”To honor Catherine, you are not required to wear these.
I turned back to him after placing new marigolds next to Catherine’s photo.You are no longer need to perform any of anything by yourself. You can consider me your daughter if you’d like.”
Harris hid his face and took a firm seat in the closest chair. Dan knelt next to him. I put my arms around Harris’s shoulders, and the three of us remained there while the floorboards turned gold in the late afternoon sun.
We brought marigolds to Catherine’s grave the next Sunday. The new boots were worn by Harris. With Catherine’s store letter still tucked inside one of the boots, the elderly couple waited securely at home in a box wrapped with tissue.
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After a while, Harris grinned at the flowers as we stood together in the winter light.”She would have adored this,” he remarked.
I gave his arm a squeeze. “I think she does.”
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