Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Beau sat two plates on the small kitchen table. The smell of cinnamon and apples filled the space. “Thank you for sharing your apple pie with me, pretty baby.”
Palmer giggled. “I made it for us, Daddy! Of course I’m going to share!”
He chuckled before cutting the small pie down the middle and sliding each half onto a plate. “It smells yummy!”
Palmer picked up her pink plastic spoon and scooped a bit of her pie onto it. “Hmmmmm,” she said after taking a bite. “It tastes yummy too, Daddy.”
Beau took his own bite. “You did excellent! This is delicious,” he praised. He was happy to see her preen a bit, thankful she seemed to be proud of herself. Beau hoped that was a sign her confidence was growing.
“I had fun making it,” Palmer said.
“I could tell. Miss Samantha sent me a picture today. It was of you helping another friend make her own pie.” The picture had made pride swell in his chest. She was such a sweet baby.
She shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah, she was sad.”
“Well, I’m proud of you for helping her,” Beau said fondly. “That was very kind.”
Palmer frowned down at her pie like something very troubling was bothering her. “She colored her apple daffodil yellow,” Palmer said.
Beau blinked.
“Daffodil yellow,” she repeated, shaking her head. Her red curls swung with the movement.
Trying very hard to support her obvious concern, Beau nodded gravely.
“Well,” he struggled, “that is a very unusual color for an apple.”
Palmer sighed like her world was ending.
“Apples are red or green, maybe pink sometimes.”
Beau considered her words carefully. Deciding he’d found a teachable moment, he spoke carefully, “Well, apples are usually those colors.”
Palmer looked up at him, confused. “Usually? Apples are always those colors.”
“Sometimes people like to color things differently,” Beau explained. “It doesn’t mean it’s wrong. It just means they’re using their imagination and that’s okay.”
Palmer frowned a little, still looking unsure. “But apples aren’t yellow.”
“That’s what many people believe if they’ve not ever seen one in real life,” Beau said still trying to be supportive. “But when you’re drawing or coloring, you don’t always have to follow the rules.”
Palmer picked at her pie with her spoon while she thought about that. “You mean… she didn’t do it wrong?”
“No, pretty baby, there are several varieties of yellow apples” Beau said, shaking his head. “In coloring—and in life—sometimes there isn’t a right or wrong way to do something, just a different way.”
Palmer tapped her chin as she thought.
“Sometimes the best ideas come from people who don’t follow the rules exactly. Maybe she wanted a sunshine-colored apple,” Beau suggested.
“I colored my apple red because I thought I was following the rules.”
Beau reached over and gently tapped the tip of her nose. “Rules are helpful and it’s good to follow them most of the time. They can keep us safe, but sometimes, in certain situations, it’s okay to bend them a little.”
Palmer slid from her chair and walked to him. He lifted her on his lap and held her close.
“I’ve been scared of being bad for a long time,” she said.
“I know, pretty baby.”
“Maybe next time I can color an apple purple.”
Beau kissed the top of her head. “And I will put it on the fridge. Just like I did today.”
Resting her head on his chest, she played with his fingers. Her brow was wrinkled in concentration.
“Pretty baby?”
“Yes, Daddy?” Palmer said, blinking as if she were trying to blink her thoughts away.
“When I was unpacking your backpack, I found a preschool calendar.”
“Yes, Sir. Miss Samantha gave it to me so we could decide what days would be so super fun for me to come visit. I would like to do sock day,” she explained.
“Can we talk about the part you scribbled over?” He’d been confused when he’d seen the date, but he’d wanted to hear all about her day before he questioned her about it.
Palmer’s eyes widened.
“Why did you color over the date?” Beau asked gently. “Do you want to tell Daddy about it?”
“Maybe I didn’t color over the date.”
Beau hesitated. “Who colored over it, then?” he asked, trying to keep his tone neutral.
“Maybe Allysa.”
“Allysa?” Beau asked, racking his mind for a Little one named Allysa.
Palmer reached for her backpack. Beau plucked it off the back of his chair and handed it to her. She reached in and pulled out her baby doll. “This is Allysa.”
Beau smiled. “You gave her a name.”
“Yeah, I figured she needed one since she’s a part of our family.”
Beau extended his hand and shook the doll’s plastic one. “Welcome to the family, Allysa.”
Palmer set the baby in her lap. “Would you be upset with her if she colored over the date?”
“No, baby. I would ask her why and try to help her with her big feelings, but I wouldn’t be upset.”
Palmer looked down at her pie. “It was May 28th,” she answered after a long pause.
Beau waited for her to continue. When she didn’t he asked, “Why doesn’t she like May 28th?”
Palmer sighed deeply. “It wasn't Allysa, Daddy. It was me.”
“Thank you for telling me the truth, pretty baby. What don’t you like about May 28th?”
“That was the day my foster parents said they were going to kick me out,” she admitted, her voice small. “They said I had to be gone that day.”
Beau felt anger flare hot in his chest. “Oh, baby.”
Palmer shrugged a little, still not meeting his eyes. “I don’t like to think about what would have happened if Master Derek hadn’t let me come here.”
Beau held her tighter, her broken voice breaking his heart. “I bet that’s scary, baby.”
“I’m so glad Master Derek was kind to me, but…” she shivered as she considered the possibilities.
Beau didn’t want to consider them at all. The thought of what could have happened to his baby was enough to make him nauseous.
“It’s stupid because it’s just a date,” Palmer said quietly, her shoulders curling in defeat. “I’m sorry I made a big deal about it.”
Beau shook his head immediately. “No, baby. It’s not stupid at all. Dates can hold big feelings. Sometimes our brains remember things even when we wish they wouldn’t.”
“I don’t like thinking about it,” she answered. “I wish my brain would forget it.”
“I understand,” Beau said. His thumb brushed gently across the back of her hand. “I feel the same way about July 9th.”
“Is that the day Ansley died, Daddy?”
“Yes, it is.”
“I’m sorry July 9th is hard for you, Daddy.”
“I’m sorry May 28th is hard for you, pretty baby.”
Palmer turned, wrapping her arms around his neck.
Beau thought for a second. “What if we change the days?”
“How do we change a day, Daddy?” Palmer asked.
“What if instead of those days being bad days, we make them really good days.” Her brow wrinkled slightly. He understood her skepticism.
“Good ones?”
“Yeah, good ones. You and I could pick out fun prizes or trips for those days. Something special just for me and you. Then when May 28th and July 9th come around, instead of remembering something sad, we’ll have something exciting to look forward to.”
“That’s a really good idea, Daddy.”
“I have them occasionally,” he teased. “I think since May 28th is very close, we'll have to settle on a prize this time. We won’t have time for a special trip.”
“A prize?” she asked.
“A really good one,” Beau said with a grin.
“I think I would really like that.”
Beau squeezed her gently and pressed a kiss to the back of her curls.
“Good,” he said gently. “Then we’ll start thinking about the perfect prize.”
Palmer sat up and looked at him. “Thank you, Daddy. For being so understanding with me. It.. It’s hard to believe this is my life now.”
Beau pressed a soft kiss on her forehead. “You deserve all the good things, pretty baby. Thank you for trusting me enough to give them to you.”