Chapter 34
THIRTY-FOUR
Juniper
I think I have the sweetest, most empathetic little girl in the world.
She insisted on joining one of her friends at a day camp today.
She said she wanted me to paint. I told her I wanted to hang out with her, but she said the day camp was amazing when some kids from her school went during spring break.
Apparently, they spend the entire day outside, building forts and I don’t know what else.
Even though I think she somehow feels guilty for not being with her father, almost like she was some kind of burden to me when nothing could be further from the truth, I let her go. It might take her mind off her dad.
Riley has lost some of her spark since her father announced he was postponing his visit to see her. He’s dodged my calls and hasn’t responded to my texts. I hate it when she’s faced with the truth—that she’s not her father’s priority. It’s heartbreaking to see her be let down over and over.
I see her head among the kids coming out of camp to greet their parents, and then I hear her laugh. It’s so full of life, so clear and joyous, I can almost catch it with both hands.
She bounds toward me, grinning. “Mommy.” She turns to a girl beside her and whispers and then giggles. I can’t remember having seen this girl before.
Her mood is infectious and I can’t help but be lifted up by her. Today in the studio has been more difficult than usual. I never have to muster up creativity, but today, it felt like all my limbs were coated in tar and my brain was stuck.
Riley’s father.
Fisher.
It’s just too much swirling around in my head. Seeing my daughter so happy pushes everything else to the side.
“Hey, sweet girl. How was your day?”
“We had so much fun,” she says. “This is Emma. She’s my best friend now. We’re probably going to go to college together.”
I nod. “Good to know.”
“Can I come again tomorrow?” she says. “Emma is here all week. I know it’s a lot of money, but, Mommy, we made a fire. Tomorrow they’re learning how to fish.”
“I don’t know if they have a place,” I say, glancing around to see if I can spot the supervisor.
“Please, Mommy! I’m sure they have a place. They had one today.”
I don’t waste time telling her that’s not the way these things work. I just head over to the woman in charge and ask.
There’s a spare slot, and I put Riley’s name down. Another little girl I don’t recognize with beautiful dark brown eyes comes over to her and they talk excitedly about how they’re going to catch a huge fish tomorrow and how that will look great on college applications.
What’s the obsession with college? She’s got a minute before I become an empty nester.
When we get in the car, Riley straps herself in and announces, “Emma’s brother just went to college.”
“Ahh,” I say, things falling into place. I pull out of the parking lot and head back home.
“He’s in college in New York. So that’s where Emma and I are going.”
“New York, huh?” My stomach aches a little at her mention of the place where Fisher is right now. I thought I’d be over it by now. If I had any inkling that him leaving would hurt this bad, I’d never have had that first pool game with him.
I just have to give it time. The pain and longing is bound to fade. It has to.
“Yeah. NYU,” Riley says. “That stands for ‘New York University.’ You see, Mommy? NYU—New York University.”
“Super cool,” I say. “But you’ve never been to New York. It’s a big city. Maybe you won’t like it.”
“I’ve seen it on the TV. It looks very… all the women have really nice clothes and their hair is very pretty.”
And Fisher is surrounded by them all, every day.
“Yeah. And there’s lots of traffic and no lakes to fish in.”
“No lakes? Or mountains?”
“No, you have to drive a long way to find a lake or a mountain if you live in New York.”
I watch her in the rearview mirror. Her brow is furrowed. “That’s okay,” she says. “Star Falls will always be home. I can come back here if I want to fish.”
I smile at her perfect solution. “Don’t you forget it. You gotta promise you’ll come back and visit me.”
Riley laughs. “Don’t be silly, Mommy. You’ll be in New York, too. You’ll move with me when I go to college, won’t you?” She stares into the mirror, waiting for my response.
“Sure, honey.” She’s got a decade to change her mind, but in this moment, I’m very grateful Byron’s designer bought so many of my paintings for the Colorado Club and I have the money from that tucked away in a college fund for Riley. I’m going to need it if she sets her sights on NYU.
“It will be an exciting adventure,” she says. “Dad left Star Falls, and he likes it a lot where he lives. We’re going to have the best time in New York!”
My heart crumples a little at her mention of her father.
Is that part of why she’s talking about college in New York?
She wants to know what’s so exciting past the mountains of Colorado that would keep a father away from a daughter?
Maybe. Maybe she’s just caught up with the fantasies of a new friend. Either way, it’s good to see her happy.
“Fisher’s in New York too, right?” she asks, and my stomach falls through the floor.
“Right,” I say, trying to fake a breezy tone.
“We could see him then.”
“Who knows,” I reply, trying to keep my voice light.
“And they have a lot of concerts there. And there’s a big park and I’m sure there are trees to climb. Maybe even a lake.”
I sigh as she chatters on about New York.
I’ve never heard her even mention a place outside of Star Falls.
This place has been her world for her entire life.
It’s strange to hear her talking about spreading her wings.
She’s still so little. I still have the desire to shelter her and keep her safe.
But maybe that will never change. Maybe this is the next stage of pretend play.
She’s moved on from baby dolls and is seeing herself walking down Fifth Avenue with pretty hair and fancy clothes.
“When we get home, can I tell Grandma that we’re going to live in New York? If she’s upset, we can tell her we’ll visit. We’ll come back every holiday.”
“Right,” I say. “Every holiday.”
Star Falls will always be her home, no matter how far away she is.