Wednesday, February 24, 2010
The Cheever Arms
10:17 PM |
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By Emma H
"How's my favourite girl?" Charlie called to the front door of his apartment. He placed his daughter's after-school snack of cheese and crackers, arranged in a smiley face, on the little round table.
He heard the padding of her feet as she ran to him. She threw her arms around his middle, hugging him from behind.
"Daddy!" She smiled into his shirt. "My day was crazy!" She moved towards the table and began to shove the little blocks of cheese into her mouth.
"We painted today, Dad! Painted! With our fingers! It got all over, and the teacher wasn't even mad, except with Jordan-"
"Tatum, chew with your mouth closed." Charlie grinned. This was his favourite time of day; Tatum came home and babbled about her day while Charlie watched in amusement as her first-grade excitement bubbled over.
"...and then Lucy showed me her charm bracelet..."
Tatum's thick blond curls bounced in her pig-tails, both on varying points of her head. She had to teach herself how to do her own hair. Tatum's mother had left when she was just three months old, and had never bothered to contact them again.
But Tatum was a happy child, Charlie was grateful for that. He had done his best to fill in the blanks where his wife would have been; singing Tatum to sleep, picking out her clothes, planning birthday parties, even playing Tea Party when Tatum needed a guest that wasn't stuffed. Charlie was grateful that they weren't at that point where Tatum started talking about boys yet, he was already dreading "the talk". He knew he could never take the place of a mother in Tatum's heart, a place that remained empty; but, in truth, he was glad for all the time he got to spend with his daughter. He was glad to never have to share her. He looked at her now, gabbing away, amazed at the way her green eyes sparkled and her porcelain skin always had a rosy flush as though she was just outside in the cold.
"...and then Adam chased me on to the monkey bars! He said he wanted to kiss me, Dad!" she exclaimed, scrunching her nose in disgust.
"Gross!" Charlie offered.
"I know! So I just stayed up there 'til the bell rang. But it was super close....Yuck." Tatum pondered this for a minute, chewing her crackers. "Do I have to go to school tomorrow?"
"What do you think, Tate?" Charlie laughed out.
Tatum huffed and continued to eat her snack, pretending to be angry with her father.
"Did you hear about Nick and Norah?" Charlie finally asked, probing her out of her mood. Tatum's eyes flicked up quickly.
"It's pretty exciting. Plus...it's a secret." Charlie watched as Tatum struggled between her curiosity and her desire to win the "I'm not talking to you" game.
"Oh what is it Dad?" Tatum cried. Her eyes were wide and eager with excitement.
"Well...guess!"
"Come on! Just tell me! Please!"
"Alright, Nick asked Norah to marry him last night!"
"Really! Can we go see them? Please, please, please?" Tatum begged.
"Okay, okay," Charlie agreed. "Just finish your snack and we'll head right upstairs."
PART TWO
It was there, and now it's gone. There...gone. I watched the sun flicker amongst the clouds through the stained glass windows. I just knew that Norah would be stressed about the "imperfect" weather on her big day.
But other than the weather, everything seemed to be running smoothly. Light pink roses greeted every guest at the end of each pew, all the bridesmaids and groomsmen had arrived on time, there were hardly any wardrobe malfunctions, and best of all, Nick and Norah were ecstatic.
I'd never seen Nick so happy; he seemed to glow when he smiled. I remembered the feeling, knowing that in a matter of hours you would be forever bound to the one you loved. Forever certainly hadn't held up for me.
Glancing beside me on the church bench, I noticed Tatum picking at the little rosettes on the waist of her cream flower-girl dress. Her blond curls, which had lightened in the spring sun, were done up in a small bun on her head, kept together by one bright green ribbon tied in a bow. I reached over to tighten the little ribbon and she looked up at me.
"Daddy, I'm nervous," she said.
I gave her a reassuring smile, "Don't worry, Tate, you'll be fine. You are the prettiest one here you know."
"Oh, Dad." Tatum giggled.
"Just remember to smile, put one foot in front of the other...and that I love you." Weddings: always emotional.
"I love you too, Daddy," she whispered, leaning into me for a hug. I wrapped my right arm around her shoulders. I held her close, wanting to always remember her feeling this small.
One of the bridesmaids hustled down the aisle in her dress the same colour as the ribbon in Tatum's bun. She was looking a little harried; her hair was falling from her once neat up-do, her forehead had a crease right in the middle from worry.
"Tatum, sweetie, it's almost time to start," she said. "Can you come back to where Norah is?"
I gave her one last squeeze, kissed her on the forehead and let her slide out from under my arm to follow the bridesmaid to the back so the ceremony could begin. Almost immediately the music started, slow and sweet. Tatum was the first to walk down the aisle.
When I saw her, my breath caught in my throat. She looked ten times older than she did just now when she was hugging me. I tried to see her as she was, an eight-year-old little girl full of spirit and innocence. But my eyes kept tricking me; I saw her, older now, walking elegantly down the aisle. She smiled at her guests, but kept her eyes on the people on the altar. Her face was no longer rounded with childhood; her figure was no longer even and short. Tatum looked stunning; I couldn't watch.
I turned my head and found the stained glass window, staring hard at it. I willed the tears not to come, for the lump in my throat to go away. Suddenly, I felt something fall into my right hand lightly; Tatum had walked over to me and placed on of the petals she was strewing throughout the aisle in my palm.
I know I cannot have her forever, but at least she is mine for now.
PART THREE
Tatum bounded through the hospital room door. The little blue room smelled like hand sanitizer and wilted flowers. The art on the walls was simple, mostly landscapes with lots of blue tints. There were two beds, parallel to each other, against the right wall. Everything was blue. Often, Tatum supposed it was to be calming, but to her it had just seemed depressing. In the furthest bed from the door, Tatum knew she would find her dad, staring blissfully out the window.
"Dad, Dad! You'll never guess!"
"What...is it...Tate?" He turned from the window. Charlie's sentences were paced out, slow and deliberate, like each word was a challenge. He sat up slowly on the cushions, careful not to knock any on the little tubes attached to his forearm, dripping innumerable amounts of medications into him.
"Philip proposed!" She spun and flopped down in the soft blue chair at the end of Charlie's bed. Tatum closed her eyes and let the moment sink in.
Charlie let out a low chuckle, amused at how much this twenty-two-year-old Tatum reminded him of the five-year-old one. Her eyes snapped open.
"You knew, didn't you?"
"Of course...a man...always...asks for a daughter's...hand."
"Men," Tatum sighed.
"So...when is...the ceremony?" Charlie asked.
"We were thinking about doing it in May."
"But...that's only...a month away!" Charlie wheezed. "Are you sure...you can plan it...in time?"
Tatum looked at her Dad. Tears welled in her eyes as she remembered the man he used to be. Less than a year ago he had been a perfectly happy middle-aged man; a full head of hair, he still had some muscle, and he was in the final stretch of his firefighting years. The cancer had taken it all away. At first, they had been optimistic, but the disease had persisted and spread. In a way, Tatum had already felt like she lost him. Now every time she looked at him she couldn't help finding pieces of her childhood with Charlie scattered in his features, which were one of the only things the cancer hadn't stripped him of. Charlie may look tired and thinner and older now, but he was her family, she knew nothing else but his face.
Charlie saw her tears and held her gaze, trying to reassure her with his eyes that everything would be okay. He couldn't say it out loud; sometimes he couldn't even convince himself of it.
Tatum dragged the chair over beside the bed and laid her head on his chest like she used to. Charlie rubbed her shoulder, remembering the vision he'd had of Tatum getting married years ago at Norah's wedding.
"I want you to give me away, Daddy," Tatum whispered, tears rolling freely down her cheeks.
"Tate, I will be there," he said. "...I…will..."
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.
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3 comments:
I love this, Emma. I honestly want to cry in my MSIP right now...
I'm glad it was the flatlined. A heart beat would have been effective but I love this ending. I love all three of these they're so good, I was getting a little emotional too!
oh my. that was sad. :(
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