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7
RIVER WINFREY
Scarlett is strapped across the front of Leighton’s body inside one of those baby-carrying papoose things. She chose to use it over the stroller to prevent strangers from getting too close to Scarlett. She said that the carrier would act as a barrier when we come in contact with people carrying any potential illnesses.
I watch the way Leighton carries Scarlett against her chest, and her protective nature amazes me. Scarlett’s health and safety are always at the top of her priorities. She treats her as though she’s her own child. Hiring Leighton as my daughter’s nanny… best decision I ever made.
An aging gray-haired woman is standing behind the counter and waiting to greet us when we enter the shop. “Good afternoon. May I help you?”
“I hope so.” I place the aged photos and faded first-place ribbons on the counter. “I’d like to see about having these mounted and framed.”
“Maybe in a shadowbox if you think that would look good,” Leighton adds.
The woman looks at the items. “I think these would be lovely in a shadowbox.”
“It’s a birthday gift for my mother, and I need it by Friday. Is that possible?”
The woman looks over at a calendar hanging on the wall. “I can have it ready for you Friday morning unless you choose a special-order item.”
“We’ll definitely choose something in stock then.”
We follow the woman to the selection of boxes hanging on the wall. There must be at least twenty to choose from.
I look at Leighton. “I have no idea. What do you think?”
She picks up a box with a dark-stained frame. “This is my favorite because of the rich brown. It matches the coat on your mom’s horse in the photo.”
I see what she means. “You’re right. That’s the one.”
The saleswoman looks at Scarlett in the carrier and takes the frame from Leighton. “Let me get that for you, hon.”
We return to the counter and she begins to fill out an order sheet. “What color matte would you like?”
I point at Leighton. “Ask her. She’s the one making these decisions.”
Scarlett whimpers, and Leighton shifts her weight back and forth from one foot to the other in a rocking motion. “Shh… it’s okay, baby girl.”
The old lady tries to peek over the counter into the carrier, but I doubt that she’s successful at seeing much. “How old?”
Leighton pulls the sling away from Scarlett’s face for the lady to see her, but maintains a safe distance. “Three months, but she’s small for her age because she was a preemie.”
“I was thinking that you didn’t look like you’d had a baby recently.”
She shakes her head. “Oh, I’m not—”
“Leighton, what color should the matte be?”
I’m not sure why I interrupt and stop Leighton from telling the woman that Scarlett isn’t hers. Maybe I want to save her the pain of saying the words because she is a mother who has lost a daughter.
Or maybe I just like the woman’s assumption that we are a happy little family.
Leighton picks up the ribbons and holds them over the box. “Double matted in royal blue and off-white?”
I nod. “Sounds like a winner to me.”
Scarlett whimpers again. “I’m going to walk around the store while you check out.”
“Sure.”
