Chapter 2
Wyatt Woods
The early morning chores start before the sun comes up.
I gather clothes around the house and place them in the laundry basket in my arms. I descend the stairs, passing various photos of Emily: her first steps, first tooth, and jumping into a puddle, to name a few.
I paused to look at the pictures of Lauren and me from our wedding day.
I whisper, “Morning, Lauren,” and continue down the staircase.
With each passing day, the weight of my heartache begins to lift, ever so slightly, as I find moments of solace amidst the pain.
The only sounds echoing through the house are the soft rhythm of my footsteps and the steady ticking of the grandfather clock, each tick a gentle reminder of time slipping by, in the stillness of the hallway.
I walk to the laundry room, open the washing machine lid, and dump the laundry inside.
I hear my mother’s voice in my head telling me I should separate the whites from the colors.
I laugh to myself and pour laundry detergent and fabric softener into their compartments, turn the dial to cold water, and press start.
I shuffle my feet and make my way to the kitchen.
The sun hasn’t even peaked its head out on the horizon yet.
I open the cabinet and pull out the coffee and a filter.
I pop open the can and lift it to my nose.
The aromatic blend of nutty, caramelized sweetness makes the corners of my mouth lift into a smile.
Mmm, my one vice is coffee; if I could put it straight into my veins I probably would. I hit the start button, and the sound of the coffee maker is music to my ears. I head to the mudroom and slip on my boots. Even though it’s the end of June, I slip on my blue flannel as it’s a crisp morning.
I open the door and stroll to the barn. Usually, the first daily chore is feeding the few horses we own.
Having horses takes a lot of responsibility.
One of them being to provide adequate forage like hay.
They need regular grooming and hoof care.
I check the level of the water trough and fill it as needed.
The sound of the rooster crowing makes my shoulders shudder. Damn, now Emily will be up sooner than I’d planned. I return to the house and pull off my boots. That’s when I hear the padding footsteps of Emily coming down the staircase.
“Daddy, daddy. Did you feed Magic, Stargazer, and Stetson?”
“Yes, honey.”
“What about Hubs, you can’t forget Hubs.”
“I fed them all.” I lean down and lower to one knee to be at eye level with her. “What are you doing up so early?”
“I heard Sir Clucks-A-Lot’s cock-a-doodle-doo.” She rubs her eyes and lets out a yawn.
I lifted an eyebrow. “Ah, maybe it’s more of a cock-a-doodle-don’t.”
She giggles. “Your silly daddy.” She hugs me by wrapping her little arms around my neck and kisses me on the face. I turn and blow a raspberry on her cheek. “Eww, that’s gross.” She wipes her face with the back of her hand.
I can’t help but laugh aloud. I wrap her in my arms and hug her a little tighter. She pulls away slightly.
“Do you think Nana is up?”
“Probably, but let’s leave her be. She has a lot of work to do before the borders are awake.”
“Can’t I help her in the kitchen?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“I won’t be in the way.”
“Maybe when you’re a little older.”
She let out a dramatic sigh and pouted. Even though she looks cute, I can’t give in to her tantrums.
“Do you need to go back to bed and change your attitude?”
“Hmmmph. I don’t have any attitude, Daddy.”
“Then uncross your arms, little lady.”
She slowly uncrossed her arms, and her face softened. “Sorry, Daddy.”
“I didn’t say no. Right now, you’re too young. Do you understand?”
She nodded her head, her dark locks looking tangled from her slumber. “Yes.”
“Do you want to pick out your clothes for today while I make us some breakfast?” She nodded vigorously and dashed back upstairs. The sound of her footsteps slowly faded away.
I turned on the gas burner to medium and placed a pan over the flame.
Opening the fridge, I pulled out a package of bacon and rolled it to loosen the strips so they’d be easier to manage.
After opening the package, I placed four strips of bacon inside the pan.
I grabbed a coffee mug and poured a generous amount, letting the aroma fill the air.
The sound of Emily running down the stairs makes me to panic a little. “Slow down, Emily. You know I don’t like you running down the stairs”
“Yes, Daddy.” I hear her voice behind me. I turned to see what she picked out for today. She’s wearing jeans, a shirt with a flowered pattern, and a yellow skirt that is part of a Snow White costume.
Her hair is still a mess, but that’s something I do for her.
After watching many videos on YouTube, I taught myself how to style her hair.
I enjoy doing it. If I’m being honest with myself, it’s also a way to make more memories with her.
Being a single dad isn’t easy, but I make an effort to do my best every day.
Emily sat perched at the table, her legs playfully swinging beneath her as she let her imagination drift with each gentle kick.
“Hey kiddo, do you want some eggs?”
“Eww, I can’t eat chicken eggs, those are babies.”
“Emily, they’re not fertilized.” I continue to cook, knowing she doesn’t understand the difference. I’m certainly not going to push the issue. I popped some strawberry waffles into the toaster, pulled plates from the cupboard, and placed them on the counter.
I set the bacon on the table and her eyes light up like it's Christmas morning.
“Please take one for now; you can grab a few more once your waffles are ready.” I cracked two eggs in the pan.
The popping noise from the toaster startles me.
I pull the waffles out and burn my fingers on the edge, then toss the waffles onto the plate.
I do my best to hold back from cussing in front of Emily, but a low moan escapes my lips.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. ”
She springs from her chair, her eyes sparkling with concern as she takes my hand and gently guides it downward, eager to inspect the injuries on my fingers. “Let me give it a kiss to make it feel better.” I noticed her kindness at the tender age of four, despite the pain I was feeling.
“Stay still daddy, I’ll be right back.” She leaves the room.
My eyebrows furrow as I inspect my finger further.
Is she going to get some burn cream? It’s not that bad.
I grab the pan and pour my eggs onto the plate, along with some toast that I had buttered earlier. A few minutes later, she returned.
“This is my nurse, Lauren the Panda. She’ll be taking your temperature.” My eyes glanced down at the bear bearing my wife’s name.
“Honey, can we do this after breakfast? It’s gonna get cold.”
Emily’s shoulders slumped, her head hanging low as if the weight of the world rested upon her. I know she means well. “Do you know what I can use right now, Emily? Daddy needs a hug. That’s the best medicine you could give me right now.”
Slowly, her head rises and her blue eyes are filled with unshed tears. She throws her arms around my leg. I bend down, gently unwrap her arms from my leg, and envelop her small frame within my arms. My heart breaks seeing how sensitive she is.
I pick her up and place her in her chair. “Thank you for making me feel better. Are you going to grow up and be a doctor like Daddy?”
“Only if I can go around and give hugs and make people feel better.”
“Well, that’s not how it works, but your display of kindness and consideration for others will go a long way.” We eat in silence, and I wonder if I’m doing okay as a dad.
Self-doubt rears its ugly head. Am I doing everything I can to help Emily? Is she missing anything because she doesn’t have a mom? A sigh escapes my lips .
“Daddy?”
“Yes, baby girl?”
“Are you working today?”
“Nope, today’s Saturday. Do you want to do something special?”
“Can we go visit Momma?” A lump forms in my throat.
I nodded and smiled at her. After we’re done with breakfast, I pick up the plates, wash them, and place them in the drying rack.
I lean against the sink and look out at the window facing the backyard, and the sun shines over the apple orchard.
Soon, the apples will be ready for picking.
This place holds a special spot in my heart and my time spent with Lauren.
She always wanted a home that was warm and inviting.
I turn and look around the rustic kitchen. Even though she’s not here, I can picture her making apple pies and telling stories to Emily while she bakes.
“Daddy, I’m ready.” I look down and see she’s changed into a sundress and cowboy boots .
A smile fills my heart. “We can’t go anywhere until I brush your hair.”
“No, let’s go. I want Mommy to see my dress.”
I shake my head and give her a stern expression. “Emily Rose Woods.”
She sighs because she knows I’m not going to give in.
I pull out a spare hairbrush and a small box filled with hair barrettes and rubber bands from the junk drawer.
I boost her up and sit her on the bar stool.
I gently tugged the brush through her tangled hair.
Once the tangles have been taken care of, I ask if Emily has a requested style.
“Do you want to wear your hair down, or do you want to wear braids?”
“Braids, please. Can you put something right here?” She points above her ear.
I placed a sparkly butterfly clip after I braided her hair.
Before I forget, I pick up my phone from the counter and shoot my mom a text message letting her know where we’re going.
“Let me put on my shoes and I’ll be ready to go.
” I slip on some shoes, pick up my keys and wallet, and put them in my pocket. “Are you ready to go?”
“I’ve been waiting for ages.” She runs to the back door and waits for me.
I can’t help but roll my eyes at her response. “Ages, huh? You don’t say? Just wait until you get older. You’ll understand the concept of time better.” I opened the door, and we descended the staircase. “Guess what we almost forgot to do?” Emily’s eyes go wide with curiosity.
“We forgot to feed Sir Clucks-A-Lot and the rest of the chickens. Can you help me get that done and then we can be on our way?”
“Sure.”
We open the coop and pour food into the feeder which should last a couple of days.
One of the chickens likes to peck at feet and ankles.
I’m glad Emily decided to wear boots. However, I see the offending chicken lift its head and charge at us.
As quickly as I can, I pick up Emily before Elvis Pecksley can attack.
I waved my hand to shoo it away. Emily shouts, “Bad chicken!”
The chicken backs up and I open the door so we can escape. I place Emily on the ground and lock the chicken coop. “Tell me again why we have chickens?”
“You said because Nana needs them for her inn.”
“That’s right.” I mumble under my breath damn chickens .
“Did you say something, Daddy?”
“Nope. I’m ready to go now.”
“Yay! Let’s see Mommy!”
We walk through the groves of apple trees past our property line and through a field which will take us to a bridge to cross over a small brook.
The sun shines down through the trees, illuminating the path ahead.
We take a minute to enjoy the blooming flowers before continuing on our way. We finally made it to the bridge.
We pause again; this time we watch the water flow below us.
Emily picks up a leaf and hands it to me.
She walks to the other side and waits for me to drop it so she can see it flow down the river.
I turned and smiled at her. I take the leaf and drop it into the water. We both watch as it floats away.
We come to the cemetery gate, its ornate iron doors are open to the public.
I held out my hand for Emily to hold on to.
I’m not afraid she’s going to get lost. It’s because I need her strength as much as she needs mine.
We stroll down the aisle and see flower arrangements laid carefully.
We arrive at the place where Lauren is laid to rest. I take a deep breath and look at Emily.
She smiles back and we stand at Lauren’s grave site.
“Hi, Momma.” Emily says, as I reach down and place a single flower on the grave.
Emily stands beside me and holds my hand.
I tell Lauren about our morning and the crazy chicken that tried to attack us.
I tell her how much Emily has grown and how she resembles Lauren more each day.
I stop talking as the words overwhelm me.
Emily takes over giving me a chance to collect myself.
“Momma, when I visited last time, I forgot to tell you I like bacon. Oh! Daddy tried to make me eat baby chickens for breakfast today. Isn’t that wrong? ”
I couldn’t help but laugh at her antics while I picked the weeds and fallen leaves scattered around her site. I stand and collect myself and look at the granite stone next to Lauren's. I run my hand along the top where an angel sits. We stay silent for a moment before we say our goodbyes.