Stone of Hope

Chapter 1

Squeezing the hairpin between my fingers, my hand pauses as I’m reaching for the door.

Do I want to do this?

He said we”d never lie to one another. That was our pact; stronger than blood, according to him. But actions speak louder than words, don”t they? The words I overheard him speak on the phone wouldn”t leave my mind. He’s hiding something from me. If I could just get this door unlocked, I could figure out what it is.

Twisting the crimped metal with my fingers, I twist the pin to the right and then to the left.It”s either too thin or not the right shape. I’m getting nowhere fast. The lock doesn’t disengage, no matter how I wiggle it around. Just then, the back screen door squeaks.

“Jewel?” my father’s voice rings out.

I stick the hairpin back into my ponytail, his footsteps getting louder as he descends the stairs.

“What are you doing down here?” he asks. His eyebrows rise in suspicion.

Does he know?I swallow, trying to calm my breathing and my racing heart, and quickly make up an excuse for being in the basement. “I was just coming down to tell you I’m heading out for a run to that old farmhouse you told me about.”

“Do you want me to go with you? I have about an hour to spare before I have to leave.” He smiles at me.

“No, that”s okay. If they have as much scrap metal as you said, I”ll be gone longer than an hour.”

He nods slowly and then turns and climbs the stairs. I follow behind, anxious to get outside into some fresh air where I can clear my head and run out this pent-up energy. Dad waits by the front door as I jog down the driveway; I give a quick glance back. As soon as I”m out of sight, I push hard, a primitive need to get distance fueling my steps. If it”s one thing I hate, it”s a liar.

I clasp a hand to my ribs as the ache intensifies the harder I push. Frustration flows through me with the knowledge that my memories can’t seem to unearth a single clue about what he was referring to.My mom fell ill when I was four.All this time, I thought his lab down in the basement was filled with his research on her illness.But maybe it was about me all along...

A sudden, piercing sound makes me jump out of my skin. I”d run further than I thought. Scanning a nearby house, I spot anolder man anda girl who looks a little younger than meworking on moving their junk.Taking a closer look,I smile.This place is a gold mine.The twodrag a piece of metal across theoverly grownlawn, hitting other discarded pieces of metal along the way. I duckunder the No Trespassing sign, taking my chances with the jungle grass,andwalkaround anobjectwith a big, circular opening, resisting thetemptation to walk through it. I can’t help but wonder what it was used for.It would be perfect for my project. It”s exactly the right size and shape.

Waving, I try to get their attention before I scare them. I’m sure no one ventures out this far on the country back roads. The girl stops, confusion written on her face.

“Aren’t you in Mrs. Birdwell’s class? You’rethe girl who builds thosesculptures.”She hits her dad”s arm and he turns around.

I look at her, eyebrows reaching my hairline before comprehension dawns. Oh yeah,she’sa freshmaninone of my art classes. “Jessica?”I ask the name tentatively, hoping I”ve remembered her name.

Her dad putsan armaroundhis daughter’sshoulders andpull her back a stepas she responds.“Yes, that’s right,” she beams and looks up at her dad. “She’s the one I was telling you about!All thepicturesin Mrs. Birdwell’s class are of her sculptures.”

In an effort to alleviate the uneasy tension with her dad, Ireach out toshake her father’s hand.“I”mJewel,” I offer.

He stares at my hand for a long moment with pinched brows before he finally shakes it.“I’m Dan, but people call me Scrappy Dan because of all my scrap metal,” he supplies grudgingly.

“This is my first time jogging down thisroad.You have quitea collection going.”A sheepish look flashes across Scrappy Dan’s face, but he straightens his back, recovering as I continue.“Iheardyou struggling to move that pieceand wanted to see if you needed any help.Hope you don’t mind.”I smile, trying to lighten the mood.

“Oh,no,not at all.Your sculptures are amazing!”Jessica gushes, bouncing from foot to foot with a wide grin.

I tap the thick, rusty square sign they are moving. “Where are you headed with this beast?”

Jessica swivels her head and points. “Over there.” I turn my head to see we have quite a distance to push it. “Dad has a few signs coming in that he bought at an auction.”

I get a firm grip on the metal frame while Scrappy Dan and Jessica follow suit. The metal groans with each step as we push it to its final destination. Stretching out my back, I brush the flecks of rust off my hands and look at the piece I want. I wonder if he’ll part with it?

“Actually,” I begin conversationally,“the piece I’m working on needs a large base.”

“Oh, maybe we have something here!” Jessica chimes. “Do you see something that would work?” Scanning, she cranes her neck from side to side as she glances around the yard.

“Well, theflat base withthecircleopening in the very front could work, if you’re willing to part with it,”I suggest, pointing to the one I want.

Jessica looksat her dad with pleading eyes. After he nods his approval, she smiles at me.“Sure,as long as I get to see the final project,”she prods energetically.

“You bet,” I concede, feeling this trip was productive, after all.“Ash and I will be back laterto pick it up, if that’s okay.”Her face lights up at the sound of Ash’s name.I grin. Ash is the hottest guy in school, hands down. And he’s mine. “How much do you want for it?”

Scrappy Dan finally smiles.“Consider it your payment for helping us move that piece. If we aren’t home when you come by, feel free to just grab it.”His voice is less wary and his shoulders and smile have relaxed.

Giving a small wave to Jessica and tossing,“See you at school!” over my shoulder,Imake my waybackto the red clayroad. Once I’m out of sight of the house, I pull out my cell phone and smile, knowing what Ash will say when I ask for help. He’ll give me a hard time because he has heavy lifting to do. My smile widens when his voicemail picks up, and I leave a message asking him to bring his truck to my house later. I’m so excited to start welding everything together for my final touches. Not every piece is as difficult as this one, but it’s always hard finding the perfect piece to fit.

Business complete, I take a moment to enjoy the scenery. It smells like Spring; like green grass, honeysuckle, and the mingling perfumes of many different flowers.Since this past Winter was colder than normal, the peach trees are blooming later.As a result, the scenery is lush and full, with millions of pink blooms on the trees. Thisis why my mother loved it here in Georgia.Spring was her favorite season. Sticking my phone in my pocket, I head down the road, replaying the conversation I overheard last night.

Passing by the open basement door, my father’s voice travels up the stairs. He must have left the lab door open downstairs in the basement.

“I know I’m running out of time to help her.” I’ve never heard him sound so desperate. “Jonathan still hasn’t seen anything that will help?” he asks brokenly.

There is a long pause. Did he hang up the phone? Is he coming up? Taking a careful step back, I listen, ready to retreat up the steps if I need to.

“We have until her eighteenth birthday next month to find—” The step groans under my foot. “Hold on.”

Quiet as a mouse, I creep back to my room. Running out of time to help who? Me? My eighteenth birthday is next month. Who is Jonathan? One thing is for certain…my father has been lying to me.

Ash’s beat-up truck rumbles down my driveway. I race out to meet him, too excited to wait any longer. I want to get my piece before it gets dark. A sly smile spreads across my face as I reach the truck before he has a chance to bring out his 1950s-style chivalry by opening my door. I secretly love it, but I like aggravating him more.

I do allow him the honor of pushing it open from the inside. With a quick eye roll he asks, “Where to this time, Jewel?” Despite the annoyance in his tone, there’s a wide smile on his face.

Instead of answering, I jump on the bench seat and pounce on him. I run my hands through his blond hair, taming the wavy bedhead as I kiss him, relishing the moment until he pulls away. My hands slide down over the tight shirt covering his ab muscles, causing me to shiver. I know what’s under that shirt. His six-pack is envied by all the high school guys and drooled over by all the girls.

His smile shows off the dimple on his right cheek. “That kiss makes me think you have my work cut out for me.” With a soft chuckle and a shake of his head, he puts the truck in drive.

I slide back over the bench seat and buckle up, giving him a knowing smile. “Don’t worry; it’s only a few miles away.” I turn up the radio, giving the directions as we go.

He intertwines his free hand in mine and brings it to his lips. My hand looks stark white in contrast to his honey-toned skin. I try to casually watch him as he drives. Even after all our time together, my heart still flutters when I remember the first day I met him. He came when I needed someone. The house was getting lonely with my dad being gone a lot.

His giant frame wasn’t to be missed, while his blond waves begged to be touched. He slid into the seat beside me and all I could smell was cinnamon and honey. What guy smelled like that? His eyes held my gaze as I introduced myself. The outer ring of green around his brown eyes was something I’d never seen before. I stole glance after glance until the teacher started talking. From that moment on, I loved biology. Well, at least the scenery. That day, I felt lucky that there happened to be an empty seat next to me.

Ash’s eyebrows skyrocket the moment he sees the size of my piece. “Jewel, you and I can’t lift that in the truck. Are you sure it will even fit?”

A smile touches my face as he ducks his tall, muscular frame out of the truck. He comes to my side and opens the door, a habit I adore. “Sure we can!” I chirp. “We’ve lifted other pieces just as heavy, if not heavier. This is just an awkward shape. Let me go tell them we’re here. Maybe they can help.” I start making my way through the tall grass until I find a walking path that leads up to their house.

As I walk to their door, I hear a horn blow in the distance. I turn to look at Ash and see that he’s standing next to the woods that border their property. Did he hear it too?How did he get over there so fast? Ash whips around in the other direction. His eyes look primal. His stance is tight.

“Why are you acting like that?” I call out, but he doesn’t answer. I climb the steps up to the front porch and knock on the door. No answer. I ring the doorbell. Puzzled, I turn around and see Ash still staring into the woods.

“Are they out there?” I call out to him.

His stance begins to relax as he jogs through the tall grass, maneuvering around other pieces lying in the yard. He stops on the step just below the one I’m standing on and shakes his head. “No… but I thought I heard something.” Shrugging his shoulders, he takes a step back and taps the porch railing. “Let’s just get it and get out of here. I’m starving.” He places a hand on his belly and rubs it to emphasize his point.

I shrug. “Okay, well, looks like we’ll have to move it by ourselves. Honestly, I think we’ll be fine. Remember the piece we lifted for the horse sculpture?” I head towards the edge of the porch.

He gallantly extends his hand to help me down. “You mean the one you smashed your foot with because it was too heavy?”

Miffed, I retort, “Well, if you’ll recall, you thought my foot was broken, but it was completely fine. You were so scared my dad was going to kill you,” I respond, laughing.

He shrugs. “What can I say? Your dad is scary at times. Speaking of your dad, when is he due back?” As we approach the desired piece of metal, Ash shakes his head and groans.

“He said late tonight. Why?” Slapping his shoulder, I ask, “Are you going to stand guard again?” It’s an ongoing joke we have. Each time my dad leaves on one of his many work trips, he always makes Ash promise to guard me with his life. Of course, Ash has to go to work too, but I don’t mind because I enjoy the time I spend by myself. It’s the only time I can use my gift.

“You know I am,” he says with a smile and a wink, showing me that dimple I love. His smile falters. “Now – let’s get this over with.”

We push and tug, shimmying it along the grass until we reach the back of the truck. Ash gauges the dimensions and heft of the piece.

“We’re going to have to stand this upright; it’s too long, horizontally. Pick up on three?” I nod my head. He counts, “One, two, three.”

My muscles strain and burn as I lift with all my might. Unbalanced, it tips more towards Ash, making him grunt. After several minutes of excruciating effort, we finally heave it into the bed of the truck. I hop into the bed to keep it steady until Ash joins me, and then we scoot it to the middle. I catch my breath while Ash straps it down.

After hauling the metal beast at a snail’s pace down the dirt roads, we finally pull into my driveway. The motion sensor lights come on and the reflection off my sculptures makes the yard appear brighter. Although there are sculptures of every size, shape, and medium imaginable, the wave sculptures I created in seventh grade reflect the most light.

He backs the truck up to the shed door, where all the other parts have been stored. I turn to Ash. “Let’s unload it now, and then I’ll start on it when you and Dad leave again. Dad said he can only stay one day before he has to go back out. It’s been nice seeing him so often.” I keep my eyes forward, not wanting to give anything away.

“Yeah, you’ve seemed happier.” His calloused hand hides mine as he gives it a slight squeeze. I nod my head in agreement. I have been happier lately. Until I learned my father was keeping secrets from me, that is. But I’m not sure if I should tell Ash what I overheard until I know more. Smirking, he says, “Okay, let’s get this over with so we can go inside and cook dinner.”

We head to the back of the truck and lower the tailgate, and Ash jumps into the truck bed to slide the piece closer to the edge. Jumping back down, we lift the circle structure together. I grunt and hold my breath as we slowly make our way into the machine shed and place it in front of the tanks.

I let out a tense breath and shake out my hands, relieving the strain. My mouth widens into a grin. “I told you we could do it!” I gloat. “Not even a scratch, at least not on me!” Punching him in the arm, I start running to the house. He quickly catches up and grabs me around the waist, picking me up and throwing me over his shoulder. From this angle, I have a great view of his butt. I give it a well-aimed smack and he promptly returns the favor.

He climbs the stairs of my mother’s childhood home with me still draped over his shoulder. Reaching up, he plucks the key from the top of the door frame and we make our way to the mud room before Ash gently sets me down. I feel his scruff on my lips when I give him a chaste peck on the curve of his dimple. Looking down, I see red clay dust on the floor from our shoes. I grip his bicep for balance as I take off my shoes, and he uses the wall for support as he toes off his sneakers. He reaches out to tuck my mother’s necklace back underneath the collar of my shirt. Touched, I rise to my toes and give him a light kiss.

Traipsing our way to the kitchen in sock-clad feet, Ash and I begin a familiar dance as we cook together. Tonight’s menu consists of chicken alfredo. Each time he hands me something, he kisses me on the head, his arms always circling my waist. We move fluidly, acting as extensions of each other in domesticated bliss, until dinner is prepared. I grab a couple plates from the cabinet and Ash sits our drinks down on the table. We quickly fill our plates and I tell him about my sculpture plans as he inhales his food.

Dad walks through the door just as Ash and I finish eating.

“You’re home early,” I remark, standing from my chair to fix him a plate.

He embraces me before I can get to the cabinet to pull down another plate. “Yes, I’m exhausted.” He squeezes me a little too tight before letting go.

“Did you eat?” I ask. Reaching for the pan, I spoon a healthy dollop of chicken alfredo onto a plate and take it to the table, placing it in front of my father’s customary chair.

He sits down and offers a quick word of thanks before digging in. “No, not yet. I figured there would be leftovers.” He and Ash nod at each other in silent greeting.

For the next couple hours, we talk about our days. Dad gives a brief description of the job he’s working on in Montana. He stays in a rustic lodge while he’s there, though he assures me it’s nothing like our cabin in Colorado. We used to go to Colorado all the time when I was little, because I used to get sick a lot. When I would get really bad, Mom and Dad would take me to the cabin. They said the fresh mountain air was good for me. They were right, of course. It would only take a day or so for the air to work its magic, and then, I’d feel perfectly normal again. Sometimes Dad would even extend our stay if his work schedule allowed it.

He and I used to go hiking while Mom stayed behind with a friend who visited us every time we came. Those hikes with my father were always my favorite part of the entire trip. He was like a walking encyclopedia. His knowledge of the area, including the ability to name every rock, plant, and animal, was amazing.

“Have you guys figured out anything about Prom next weekend?” Dad asks, breaking me from my memories.

I beam, remembering how my dad took me dress shopping and even pushed me out of my comfort zone with the color of the dress.

Since Mom died, Dad made it a point to do all the other and daughter things by turning them into father and daughter things. I couldn’t ask for a better father, and all the moms in town would agree. Because he does all those things, there’s a line of eligible ladies out the door if he ever decides to take them up on their offers to go on a date. So far, he’s said no every time.

Ash pushes his chair away from the table with a screech and winces. “Actually, I won’t be able to make it to Prom,” he says quietly.

My jaw drops, shock coloring my expression.

“I’m really sorry, Jewel,” he pleads. “I didn’t know my parents were planning to take me on their extended work trip.”

Irritation and a quick burst of anger causes me to snap, “How convenient that you’re leaving right before Prom.” If it wasn’t because this would be our last high school dance together, it wouldn’t be a big deal, but graduation is only four weeks away. I turn to my dad, blurting, “I need to talk to him alone.”

Without another word, I walk straight out the door and slam the screen behind me. Not hearing the satisfying crash of the door on wood, I know Ash is right on my heels.

“How long will you be gone this time?” The words come out hastily as I collect myself.

Ash’s face is pinched. “Don’t use that tone or look at me like that. It’s not fair.” He comes to stand in front of me.

Slight embarrassment for my outburst makes me drop my eyes and soften my posture. “I know, but really, Ash? Right before Prom? We only have one month left, and most of the time you’re gone way longer than I expect.”

His parents are historians who research legends, and they often travel to different parts of the world seeking the truth. While Ash comes and goes, they normally don’t come home at all; they just send Ash back when they get sent on a different job. Sometimes they ask him to come along because they claim they need his help, which happens way more than I would have thought possible. None of it makes sense.

“I can’t believe the school even allows you to miss so much,” I say in an exasperated tone.

“You know I’d never purposely hurt you, Jewel. I don’t want to miss Prom, either. I wanted to see you all dressed up for a change. Your dad said the dress looks amazing on you and that you aren’t going to leave the house in it.”

He smirks and I can’t help returning his teasing glance. I prefer to wear my Chuck Taylors, but a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.

“Besides that, you know the school allows me to miss so much because I have the unfathomable ability to maintain a 4.0 in the midst of my world travels.”

His tone is too cocky. Agitated all over again, I bite out, “Oh yes, how could I possibly forget?” It also helps that your parents donate a lot of money to the school, I think uncharitably. “Stop sidetracking me. Why can’t you just stay with me this time and tell your parents no?”

“I’ve told you before that with my parents’ job, we’ll never be able to stay in one spot for long.” His hands begin to methodically rub up and down my arms. “I have never once lied to you about our relationship and how hard it would be with me, knowing I have to leave when my parents call. They need my help. They don’t ask, Jewel, they demand it. In return, I get my own freedom in a way.”

I look up and see his eyes gloss over, as if recalling a memory. It’s true – he’s had to leave suddenly in the past without knowing how long he would be gone. We broke up during those periods because Ash insisted he didn’t want me waiting around for him to return. Even so, I never dated anyone else. I waited for him to come back to me.

I try a different tactic. “Why don’t you tell your parents no this time, and then live here with me and finish out your senior year?” I grab his arm, trying to reassure him that his parents would have no problem with this scenario. “Surely they can understand a Senior wanting to be here for his last month and everything that goes along with it?”

Ash sighs. “Jewel, we’ve been through this. I told you the first time I left, that’s not how it works with my parents. I have to do what they say.” Pulling me into a tight hug, he kisses the top of my head. As his hands run from my hair and down my back repeatedly in long, soothing strokes, he tries to ease my temper as much as my heart. “It’ll be all right,” he croons. “I’ll come back as soon as I can, and you can always call me if you need to talk. The reception will probably suck where we’re going, but you might be able to get through.”

I remember that from the first time he left. I was furious that he didn’t return a single phone call for a whole week. Deflated, I ask, “Where are you going this time?”

“Peru.” He must see my temper flare, so he quickly adds, “I have to go. I don’t have a choice in the matter.”

A huge sigh escapes my lips, and I take a moment to try to articulate what I’m feeling. “Ash, these are huge moments, and you’re leaving in the middle of everything.”

Empathy swims in his eyes. “I can’t avoid it. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t good enough this time!” I snarl, refusing to let the tears fall until later, when I can collapse on my bed in solitude and let out all my frustrations. Instead, I look him directly in the eyes and square my shoulders. “You know what, Ash? Don’t worry about it. I’ll find someone else to go with. Someone who makes me a priority, for once.” Feeling superior, I turn on my heel and start to walk away.

“Jewel, I leave tomorrow.”

With those words, my momentum comes to a crashing halt and my shoulders sag. I’m at a loss. On one side, I’m pissed as hell that he won’t fight to stay with me. On the other side, he’s been my rock for the past four years since that first day in Biology class my Freshman year. Damn him for not fighting for us!

He looks miserable, his eyes welling like he just lost his puppy. He tries to grab my hand, but I back up a step and put my hands up to stop him.

“Jewel, you matter more to me than you’ll ever know,” he vows solemnly.

“Prove it. Tell your parents no. Stay with me.”

He takes a deep breath and hangs his head, defeated. “Jewel, you know I can’t.”

“Just go, then!” As soon as I turn away, tears spill down my cheeks. Ash reaches for me, but I keep moving, running past my frowning dad. Wiping my face angrily with the back of my hand, I round the corner to go up the stairs when I hear Dad shouting in a language I’ve never heard before. Curiosity warring with self-preservation, I peek around the corner and see him pacing back and forth in front of Ash. Ash glances over my dad’s shoulder and sees me craning to listen.

“Look, John, I’m sorry, but I have to leave first thing tomorrow,” he explains. “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. It depends on my parents’ job.”

“I know, Ash. I get it, but that doesn’t mean I like it.”

“I have to go,” Ash replies earnestly.

My dad stops pacing and looks directly at Ash. “Remember what we talked about,” he warns.

Ash replies, “Always.” He gives me a wave, but his hopeful expression falls when I don’t wave back.

I quickly make my way to the kitchen counter to wait for my dad, who engulfs me in a fierce hug as soon as he enters the room. “I’m sorry he’s leaving again, sweetie.”

I give him a tight hug back, basking in the security of his embrace. “What language were you speaking?” I finally ask, wiping the last few tears.

Dad takes a deep breath and releases it slowly as he holds me. I have a sinking feeling he isn’t going to tell me what’s going on. “Remember I promised I’d never lie to you, but that there were things I couldn’t tell you? Well, that applies to what you’re asking of me now.” He squeezes a little too tight.

Too bad I already caught you in one.Enough is enough.

“Dad,” I begin, ticking my points off on my fingers, “Ash and I have been on-again, off-again the past four years. Now he’s leaving and he won’t tell his parents he wants to finish out his Senior year here. You’re both always gone. I just heard you speaking a weird foreign language, and now you want me to ignore what I heard and act like it never happened. I know we have our secrets, but I can’t help but feel like something bigger is happening here.”

Stunned into silence, he takes a moment to recover. “I promise I’ll explain everything soon, but I just can’t right now. You’ll have to trust me that I’m doing what’s best for you. And Ash? That boy loves you. You shouldn’t doubt that for one second. I don’t know what the future holds for you, but I know you two care for one another. As far as his parents are concerned, family is complicated,” he adds ruefully. Squeezing me tight with one hand, he smooths my hair away from my face with the other.

I snort. “I know they’re complicated, but that doesn’t make it easier.” Sniffling, I add, “At least you’ll be here to hang out with me before Prom.”

A stricken look crosses his face. Before he opens his mouth, I already know what he’s going to say. “Oh, sweetie, I didn’t know Ash would be gone, but I’d already planned to leave later this week. The buyer needs the piece I tracked down in Montana A.S.A.P. I’ll be gone for Prom.”

Stepping back, I throw my hands up in frustration. “Seriously, this night sucks.”

He winces. “I know, sweetie. If there’s any way I can get back sooner, I will. You can always go with that boy who asked you out last year. Scott, was it?” He chuckles. “Ash was so mad at him.” I make a face and shake my head. Scott’s not my type, then or now. I want Ash. “Okay, well, look at it this way,” he tries again. “You’ll have time to finish your crane,” he replies with an encouraging smile.

He knows exactly how to distract me. Argument forgotten for the moment, we head outside. “Let me show you what I found today.” Grabbing his hand, I drag him to the circular piece, using the walking path to the shed past all my other sculptures on the lawn. Opening the door, I jump to the side so he can get a good look. “Ta-da!” I gloat, my hands spread wide open. “I found my crane’s body today. It’ll go perfectly with the head piece I found earlier, don’t you think?” I rest my hand on it, letting the warmth of the metal seep into my palm. “I plan on attaching the legs while it’s laying down, and then hoisting it upright in order to get the perfect angle for the head and beak.” I release his hand to point out the locations of welding points. “What do you think?”

“You lifted this all by yourself?” he asks, his eyebrows shooting up before he realizes Ash must have helped.

Patting the piece affectionately, I joke, “Yep, all by myself.” I flex my biceps with a wide grin.

He walks through the circle, ducking his head to avoid the top arc, and whistles through his teeth. “This is going to be your biggest one yet!” Dad ruffles my hair as he walks by and I feel like a skinny-kneed kid again. “As always, make sure you use the equipment, not just your gift.”

Daddy said we could make s’mores tonight, but first we have to clean up dinner. I rush to the sink and grab my drying towel, and then we work together until the job is done. With the chocolate squares, marshmallows, and graham crackers placed on a tray, I hurry down the back steps. Daddy sets the s’mores tray down and puts marshmallows on the skewers.

The night is nice as Daddy lights a fire with the click of a lighter. I stand and watch the flames, mesmerized, as they build in intensity. The blue at the bottom is pretty. I find myself wishing the fire was made up of nothing but blue flames. The next thing I know, the orange flames slowly disappear and are replaced by blue. Delighted, I look up to see fear spread across Daddy’s face.

He pulls my hand away from the flame; I don’t even remember reaching for it. Pulling me close, he looks around wildly. He holds me at arm’s length and squats down so we’re looking eye-to-eye. “Do you know what just happened, Jewel?”

“My wish came true.”

“You wanted the flames to be blue?”

I nod.

He lets out a light laugh and pulls me in for a hug. His heart is beating fast. “You can’t tell anyone what just happened, Jewel. Do you understand?”

“Okay, Daddy.”

He holds me a little bit longer, telling me how special I am, and how I was given a rare gift. After a while, we finish roasting our s’mores.