3. Cherise
Chapter three
Cherise
Mommy looked different now.
She didn’t have her pretty hair anymore.
The soft kind I used to twirl around my fingers when she sang.
Her cheeks weren’t puffy like they used to be when she kissed them together to make fish faces.
Now they were flat. Her smile still worked sometimes, but it was smaller, like they got tired halfway out.
Her smell was different, too. She didn’t smell like pancakes and flowers anymore. More like the wipes the doctor used when I got shots.
Chelsea toddled beside me, holding her dolly by the ankle. We were both in our jammies, ready for bed.
She was lying in her bed, just like yesterday and the day before. Her eyes opened slowly when we tiptoed in. Chelsea waved as if we were in a parade.
“Hi, Mommy!”
Her lips tugged into that small smile. “Hi, my babies.”
I climbed up first. Mommy’s covers were soft but cold and smelled like medicine. I grabbed Chelsea under the arms and helped her clamber up, too. She plopped beside me with a squeaky giggle.
“Mommy,” I whispered, laying my hand on hers. Her skin papery and cool to the touch. “Can you tell us a story?”
Chelsea gasped. “Story time!”
She nodded, even though her eyes looked sleepy again. “Of course. I have the perfect story.”
We snuggled into her sides like puzzle pieces. I rested my cheek against her arm. Chelsea pressed her head on Mommy’s chest and made little humming sounds, happy.
“Once upon a time, there were two sisters,” Mommy began, “who were stronger than anyone realized. They weren’t the tallest or the fastest, but they were brave.”
“Braver than grown-ups?” Chelsea asked.
Mom grinned. “Braver than grown-ups. Even when they were scared, they stood tall.”
I blinked slowly. “Did they have capes?”
Mommy chuckled softly. “No, baby. No cape. Just big hearts.”
“What happened to them?” Chelsea asked, her voice already dreamy.
“They helped each other grow up safe and happy,” Mommy whispered. “They went on many adventures together—"
“Oooo, like Dora?” Chelsea asked.
Mommy ran her fingers along Chelsea’s hair. “Yes, baby,” she smiled, “just like Dora’s adventures, but bigger. They climbed tall mountains, visited an enchanted forest, swam to an underwater kingdom—”
“Was Ariel there?” I asked eagerly.
She smirked. “Yes, Ariel and Flounder, and even… what was his name again?” She tapped a finger on her chin.
“Sebastian?” Chelsea answered.
“Ah, yes,” she said, tickling Chelsea's tummy, eliciting giggles. “They even met Sebastian.”
I squealed. “Sebastian is my favorite—after Ariel, of course.”
“Mine, too!” Chelsea added.
“Sebastian is pretty cool,” Mommy said softly. “Not all adventures were fun, though,” she said, her voice turning serious. “Some were a little scary. Some were hard. They battled dragons, camped out in the woods with bears, and ran into some pirates."
“That does sound scary, Mommy,” Chelsea said with a frown, squeezing her dolly.
“Yes, baby girl, it was. But those girls never stopped being brave. No matter how hard life got, they stuck together, and with their sister by their side, they knew they could conquer anything.”
I reached out to hold Chelsea’s hand. “Yep, you don’t need to be scared, Chelsea, because I would kick their bum bums for you.”
I could tell that my mom was holding back a laugh.
She turned to me then. Her fingers were a little shaky as she brushed my cheek.
“That’s right, my little firecracker. I want you both to remember that story,” she said. “Because in a way…you are just like those sisters.”
Chelsea sighed into sleep, already drifting.
But Mommy kept her eyes on me. Her hand squeezed mine gently.
“No matter what happens, I need you to take care of each other. Always take care of each other.”
I didn’t fully understand at the time that this was her way of telling us goodbye.
I nodded. “Ok, Mommy.”
Her eyes looked wet. As if she were about to cry.
“Are you ok?” I asked, concerned.
She quickly brushed her eyes with the back of her hand. “Yes, baby, I’m ok,” she said as she kissed my forehead. “I love you girls with all my heart,” she said, giving us a warm hug.
“I love you too, Mommy,” I replied.
Chelsea snored.
The door creaked open, and Daddy peeked in. He didn’t smile. He never did much anymore. Not since Mommy got sick.
“Alright, girls. Time to let Mama rest.”
Chelsea’s eyes squinted open, and she whined in protest even though she was already half asleep. I scooted off the bed and helped her down, too.
Once we reached the doorway, I turned at the door and looked back. Mommy’s eyes were still on us.
That story stuck with me forever.
Especially since it was the last bedtime story she ever told us.