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“Spanish,” Mercer approved. “She knows Spanish?”
“Speaks it fluently.”
Seconds later, her little head popped up behind the raised bed where I’d built a secret compartment large enough to fit us both. Just as quickly as it had appeared, it disappeared.
“Spitting fucking image, bro,” he cringed.
“And daily reminder. She breaks my heart every day and heals it before the sun sets. The next morning, she’s breaking my shit all over again.”
“My God. This shit is unreal.”
Aussie shared her mother’s silky hair, brown skin, curious rounds, perfect nose, and lips. Staring at her was like staring at my wife in a much smaller, much younger form. She possessed Anna’s wisdom, knowledge, and demeanor. She had the gentlest soul and a heart of gold. She always meant well.
“Papá, ¿es seguro?” she called out, still hiding in the garden. I didn’t have to be near to know she was drawing in the dirt as her nerves rattled her entire existence. Because she didn’t get much, human interaction was something she was still adapting to.
“Sí, mi amor.”
I watched as her pigtails peeped around the wooden fixture, warming my heart.
“Maybe put that big ass gun away and she might come out,” Mercer exclaimed, reminding me I was toting.
I headed in Aussie’s direction after concluding she wouldn’t be heading in ours. When close enough, I scooted the rifle under the bed it had come from and recovered it with the plastic.
“Hey. What’s the matter?”
Extending my arms, I reached for Aussie. She ran into my arms and laid her head on my chest.
“Hmmm? What’s the matter?”
“Who’s there?”
“A few people that love us. Two of them you will easily remember. The other, you’ve been waiting to meet. Are you up for it? Are you up for visitors?”
I respected Aussie’s space, time, and capacity. In our home, she had the right to make choices, demands, and requests. That was the way we’d been raised and the way Anna had been as well. Our age didn’t determine our rights, our ability to advocate for them did.
“A little.”
“Well, should we wait here until you’re better prepared?”
“Just a second,” she requested.
“Okay. We’ll wait a second.”
“Ten.”
“Okay. Ten seconds.”
I twisted my body from side to side, rocking her while rubbing her back with my hand to assure her that everything was alright and under control. Not until she was ready did her head pop up and those tiny teeth were on full display.
“All better.”
“Yeah? Ready?”
“Ready.”
Aussie and I remained attached at the hip as we approached the family. Her head rested on my shoulder, again, as she composed herself and tried to take control of all the emotions she was feeling. Social anxiety had her in a chokehold and our way of life had everything to do with that. This summer, I was happy to make strides in loosening her up a bit by sending her to her grandparents’s home for two months. There, she’d be part of a camp and would be socializing with children her age every day.
“No hay necesidad de tener miedo. soy tu tio Mercer.” My brother spoke to Aussie in one of our primary languages. He stepped a bit closer as he assured her that there was no need to be afraid.
