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As if my heart wasn’t already broken, knowing that Luna had taken her “treasure chest” filled with broken pencils, rubber bands, and whatever else she’d collected when we cleaned the couch cushions to sell was heart-shattering.
It was a game that I’d started to make cleaning more fun. I’d told her we were searching for buried treasure as we’d stick our fingers in the crevices of furniture since one of her favorite cartoons was Jake and the Never Land Pirates. She’d taken it one step further and collected the items in her very own treasure chest which was a shoebox she’d found in my closet.
“Lu Lu, sweetie, I appreciate that you tried to help me, but you can’t sell those things. We need to go get them back.” I picked up the plastic cup on the side of the tub and dipped it in the water. Like a well-choreographed dance, Luna tilted her head back and I poured the water over her head, rinsing out any lingering shampoo and conditioner.
“Why, Momma?”
“Because, sweetie, those things are your treasures.”
She lifted her tiny hands and placed them on my cheeks and pulled my face close to her. Her sweet breath fanned on my cheeks as she spoke, “It’s okay Momma. I want to help you.”
Her sincerity and selflessness overwhelmed me.
Tears threatened to pool in my eyes but I pasted a smile on my face as I sniffed back the impending emotion hoping that my emotional switch would go ahead and flip to off. “Thank you, pumpkin. But I’m okay. I promise. Now let’s get you dressed.”
I checked my watch and saw although it felt like one a.m. it was only seven-thirty.
After Luna dried off and put on her favorite Dora the Explorer pajamas, I ran a brush through her hair and slid on my flip-flops.
“Where are you going, Momma?” she asked.
“We’re going to go return the money to Mr. Hank.”
Her eyes lit up at the thought of seeing her new friend, but then her nose scrunched up. “In my jamas? Why?”
“We need to get your treasures back.”
“But why Momma?”
When I was pregnant with Luna I made a promise to myself that I would never say, “Because I said so.” That had been my parents’ default answer. They never gave me or my little sister any reason for anything they did.
Nothing was ever up for discussion in our home. Ashley and I never got a vote or were even allowed to voice our opinions. That was my father’s method of parenting and my mother went along with it. She never questioned what he said, and we were not allowed to either.
And as a drill sergeant, my father had no problem handing out orders. He liked things to be run a certain way in our home and my mother was a faithful second in command. She made sure his rules were followed out even when he wasn’t around to enforce them.
I was tempted to go back on my promise now. I didn’t know how to tell her that all of her treasures were junk and he must have only bought them because he’d felt sorry for her.
It was then that I remembered what she looked like when she’d shown up at his door. She’d been wearing her play clothes and had dirt on her face from the fort she’d made in the sunroom. And I didn’t even want to think about what I looked like. At least now I was showered and in clean clothes. And I had on my glasses, which meant that I’d actually be able to see the man that I’d been fantasizing about all day.
I picked Luna up so that she didn’t get her slippers dirty and started off on the short walk to the farmhouse. About halfway there she wrapped her arms around my neck and snuggled against me. I knew that the time was running out on my carrying her days. Soon she’d be too big.
In just a few weeks, she’d be five years old. She was still tiny, which made carrying her easy, but I had a feeling once she started kindergarten, she would no longer be as accommodating to me picking her up. I wanted to treasure this time for as long as I possibly could.
Luna was excitedly talking my ear off about the fireflies that were flitting around the edge of the trees that the property backed up to. As much as I tried to be present with her and listen, my mind was preoccupied with all the different scenarios we might encounter when we arrived at Mr. Hank’s house.
Would he be home?
Would his wife be home?
Would he look as good as he’d sounded, smelled and felt?
When we reached the bottom steps, I paused as a rush of nervousness flooded through me. The wooden steps creaked as we made our way to the top. I got the oddest sensation of butterflies low in my belly and I took a deep breath in through my nose.
“Are you okay, Momma?” Luna asked.
“Yeah baby, I just have some butterflies in my belly.”
It had been a long time since I’d felt nerves like these. The last time had been when I met Richie eight years ago. That meeting had led to Luna, which was a good thing. But it had also led to me having to pack up our lives in the middle of the night and move across the country.
