Page 36 of Remember Me
I stare at the photo, swallowing past the lump forming in my throat. “Can I hold it?”
“Sure.” She hands me the photo. Bringing it closer to my eyes, I battle the tears that threaten to erupt. The old me! Standing next to Finn, holding newly born Maddie in my arms. Big smiles on our faces. I remember the day it was taken as if it were yesterday. It’s the very same photo that’s in my locket. The locket that’s a part of me. Even now it’s around my neck concealed beneath my top.
My hand trembling, I lower the photo so it’s almost eye-level with Maddie. Rising on tippy-toes, she peers at it again. “My mommy was so pretty! Like you!”
Like you. The irony of her words rattles me. Yet, I’m touched and speechless. While I always considered myself smart, I never thought I was that pretty. Though I photographed well, I always complained about my faults, but Finn saw through them all and loved me all the more for them. He said they gave me character. Made me painterly.
Once again, Maddie’s sweet voice brings me back to the moment. “Don’t you think so?”
“Yes. She was. And it looks like she really loved you and your daddy.”And still does!My wobbly voice is soft and full of emotion. Though I’ve seen hundreds of images of the old me online, not one of them was of our family. I kept my personal life very private. Away from social media. For a brief minute, I reflect on the past. The way I used to be. So young! Full of life! Sofulfilled! A beautiful family... a meaningful career. The old me who possessed undaunted optimism. A sense that the world and its possibilities were open to me. My heart contracts with raw emotion. The present mourns the past. What was can never be. Sorrow soars inside me.
Maddie is oblivious to my sadness. Cheerfully, she says, “Daddy told me I look just like my mommy!”
Despite my grim self, a small smile forms on my lips. I look down at my smiling daughter, and reminisce about how I used to look in my youth. The similarities between us are extraordinary. The same thick cinnamon hair, big expressive chocolate-brown eyes, cute little button nose, and slightly cleft chin. The only thing that’s different is that she’s inherited Finn’s enviable full lips and kissable dimples. “You do, my sweetie.”
Maddie cocks her head and looks up at me. “Scarlet, how do you know that?”
I swallow back tears. Three little words. “I just do.”
For a brief moment, she digests my words, then takes my hand again, entwining her tiny fingers with mine. My body warms as she tugs me away.
“Come, Scarlet. I want to show you our classroom. It’s right next door.”
Grabbing her kangaroo from the bed, my energetic little girl ushers me through a door, which I thought was a closet. It opens to another bright, sunlit space with wraparound windows. I take in my surroundings, my eyes flitting from wall to wall of the spacious corner room.
“Do you like it?” asks Maddie as she darts to the child-size table in the middle and plops down on one of the two chairs. “This is where you’re going to teach me!”
My eyes continue to circle the room. Low-level shelves line the walls. They’re filled with books, educational games, arts and crafts supplies, and other learning aids. In addition to theshelves, there’s a play area with assorted toys and colorful mats, and across from it, a comfy cozy slipcovered couch—more the size of a loveseat—the perfect place to curl up and read a book or have one read to you. On the bright yellow walls, I eye a map of the world and a handy whiteboard as well as charming framed paintings obviously done by my talented daughter.
“So, Scarlet, what do you think?” she asks again.
“It’s awesome!” It really is the perfect learning environment. Whimsical, cheery, stimulating.
My little girl beams. “My daddy designed it! He built the bookshelves all by himself.”
“Wow.” What an incredible father Finn has been to our child. Single-handedly grooming her to be bright, insightful, inquisitive, and polite as well as imaginative and creative. My mind fills with his ruggedly handsome face and I ache to see him again. My gaze follows Maddie as she leaps up from the table and waltzes over to a bookshelf. She squats down, setting Kangy on the floor, and surveys the books.
“This is my library. My mommy bought me all these books before I was born.”
“I remember them.” A wistful smile tugs at my lips. Indeed, I do. That day, in my third trimester, I snuck out of my office at lunchtime and drove to Barnes and Noble, wishing they had a shopping cart for all the books I intended to purchase. I vowed that I would make my child, be it a son or daughter, fall in love with books like I did as a child. And to become a reader. Books, preached my late mother, are dreams you hold in your hand. They open worlds you’ve never experienced and maybe will never know. From the get-go, I planned to instill the value of reading into my child.
Sliding out a book from the bottom shelf, my little girl looks over her shoulder. She shoots me a puzzled look. “What do you mean you remember them?”
I bite down on my bottom lip. I said something I shouldn’t have. Note to self:Think before you speak. I have to be careful. It’s not going to be easy. Hastily, I rectify my faux pas. “I mean I remember reading all your books.”
Thankfully, with a smile, she buys into my response. “Guess what, Scarlet! I’m an excellent reader.” She proudly draws out the word “excellent.”
I smile back at her, my heart swelling with pride. “I know. Your daddy told me.”
Her grin widens, the dimpled smile just like Finn’s and making me ache again for him. Clutching the book, she stands up and faces me. With both hands, she holds it up. “This is my favorite book.”
I silently read the title:Madeline.
The fearless, feisty, fictional little girl who inspired my daughter’s name. Just knowing her for the short time I have, I can tell my pint-sized bundle of energy is equally fierce and fearless. A girl after my own heart.
“That was my favorite book, too, when I was your age. I lovedMadeline.”
“You did?”