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“But it wasn’t you?”
“Yeah,” she said in a sad voice. “Is that bad?”
“Nope. We’re not miniature versions of our parents, Mariana. We’re allowed to be different.” I wasn’t her mother, just her friend. “Find a way to be yourself and still honor what your mama meant to you. What does she like?”
“Mama is a girly girl. She likes dresses and lace and makeup and all that stuff. But she also likes crowns and I love crowns!”
“Perfect! I can work with that.” We made several stops for bedroom furniture before we got down to the fun part of shopping, the personal stuff. “Okay, we have pillows in all colors and all of’em have tiaras on them. What colors do you want?”
Looking more grown up than a seven year old should, Mariana tapped her chin as she examined her options with the seriousness of someone buying a car. She took her time, choosing a black pillow and a royal blue one. “How’s that?”
“Do you like it?” She nodded. “Then it’s perfect. I’ll bet we can find bedding to match.”
“Really?” I nodded and with the giddiness a child her age should have, Mariana bounced on her toes. “Cool! Mama always said when money was better she would get me a proper bedroom but I didn’t mind.”
“That’s because parents always want the best for their kids. My mama couldn’t afford much but she made us pillowcases and curtains, because the fabric was cheaper, and she was an expert with a sewing machine.”
“Were you poor too?” Her eyes went wide and Mariana smacked a hand over her mouth. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. We weren’t just poor, Mariana. My mama would often say we were so po’ we couldn’t afford the extra ‘or’, that’s how poor we were.” I shrugged it off, along with the memories of being the poor kid at school. “It wasn’t great but my mama did her best and it was us girls against the world.”
She smiled again. “Us too. Me and Mama and Auntie Luna, us against the world.”
“That must be why we like each other so much, we’re tough girls.”
“Tough girls with tiaras,” she said and grabbed the blue bedding dotted with tiaras. “I miss my mama a lot, Brenna.”
“Of course you do, honey. You’ll miss her every day for the rest of your life, but some day you’ll just remember her smile, her off-key singing and the way she the best burnt toast.”
“I won’t forget her?”
“Heck no. You’ll miss her when you fall in love for the first time, when you have a kid of your own, when you achieve your dreams. She’ll be in your heart and your mind on all those occasions, big and small. That’s how you keep her alive.”
She thought about those words for a long time, staying quiet as I paid and loaded up my car with items for her new life, a life without her mother’s physical presence. “My dad’s pancakes are better than mama’s. Is that wrong?”
“Not at all. Your mama got to bond with you in her tummy and she got all those years watching you become this great kid, it’s only fair that he gets to be the better pancake maker.”
“Okay.”
“Okay then,” I told her as we pulled into the mall parking lot. “What about your walls. Do you want art? Posters of bands and cute boys? Something else?”
She shrugged. “Maybe something with dinosaurs and unicorns?”
“Let’s see what we can find and then I need food or I won’t make it much longer. I need fuel.”
The sound of her laughter filled me with affection. Was there anything greater than the sound of a child’s laughter? “You’re only hungry because the food court is right behind you.”
I turned and saw she was right. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?” The little girl could barely hold back her laughter.
“Do you want to argue or do you want to get these decoration so we can eat?”
“Dinosaurs and unicorns, then food!”
“Perfect. Come on.” After lunch we did a bit more shopping because what is a day of shopping without a pretty little dress or the perfect pearl snap shirt? For Mariana it was a couple dresses and the cutest little pair of cowgirl boots. It was the perfect end to the perfect girls day.
Or maybe, just maybe, I was delaying the inevitable.
Another run-in with Grant.
Grant
“Why are you in such a hurry to get home?” Liam’s voice held a teasing tone and the mischievous smile he wore told me he was about to get me shit. “Hot date or something?”
I sighed and picked up the bag that held my normal work clothes since I was dressed in STA sweats. “Not a hot date, just a kid who needs to eat and bathe and all that stuff.” That was most of the truth, anyway. The rest of it, that I was rushing home to see if I could spend some time with Brenna before she rushed off, was just for me.
