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I smiled back, not telling either of them what I’d heard Elijah say to Noah just before I’d walked into the room.
“There’s secrets that can break us, and those we’re wielding like double-edged swords. It could hurt her. We should be careful.”
25
Elijah
Sundown had to be my favorite spot in the entire city. It was one of the first places I explored when I moved here, an Old-World soul in a blindingly fast maze.
Sally and I took a stroll along Greenwich Village’s cobblestone streets. We meandered through and around, passing quaint brownstone buildings.
Each home had a history cast in sepia, curiously juxtaposed with colorful flower boxes.
“It’s all so pwetty, Daddy.” Sally was all smiles as she sniffed and looked around her. She was fast getting to that age where everything around her sparked curiosity.
Her blue eyes opened wide as we came across a hidden alley surrounded by ivy-covered walls. The residents of this lane had gone rogue with fairy lights, and the effect was something out of one of her favorite storybooks.
I could hear her breathing increase. Sally loved anything that reminded her of fairy tales. It brought her closer to her mother, who used to spin stories of magic and comfort until she closed her eyes every night.
“Does this remind you of the stories Mom would read, baby?” I asked her, my voice gentle.
She nodded and raised her hands. I picked her up and gathered her in my arms. We reached the secret gate leading into the garden. This, in itself, was a wrought-iron archway entwined with vines.
Even for someone as seasoned as me, I couldn’t help wondering whether June’s spirit lingered. And if it did, I’d like to think she’d feel at home in a place like this.
I walked, Sally safely bundled in my strong arms, through a winding footpath lined with blooming cherry blossom trees. Their delicate petals fluttered down like confetti, some falling on my little angel’s face.
She giggled and turned her face to the sun.
“Is Mommy doing that?”
“She is, my love.”
I set her down by the north bridge.
She immediately took off like a playful little squirrel. I watched her flit around me, her young energy reminding me of everything good about this world.
After some time, she came up to me with one of her best doe-like faces. I knew what this meant. I braced myself, preparing to totally give in to whatever she’d ask for.
I was no good at putting up a strong front when my daughter made one of her odd requests. Most of the time, it was something pretty harmless.
Like two days back, she’d told me she wanted to eat marmite on toast 'like them people from Austwalia.' I managed to get the marmite. That bit was fine.
What nearly killed me was when she insisted I had to do it with her. And oh, God, I could not stand the stuff—no offense to those who loved it. I had my quirks too. I didn’t mind a bit of pepper on jam sandwiches, for instance.
But how could I say no to that face, especially when she scrunched her little nose and blinked her eyes at me like that?
I’d just eaten the damn toast at the speed of light, trying to tell myself everything Noah did when he spoke of his love for marmite.
It’s like umami.
It’s supposed to be an adventure in your mouth!
Bleurgh.
At least she hadn’t asked me for a flying unicorn. The rate at which I was going, I’d make a deal with the devil to get it for her.
Or I could take him out to tea and talk it out like reasonable adults.
