Chapter 6 #4
After several long moments...
I did.
"I don't remember ever believing the world wanted good things for me."
My voice was softer now.
Almost lost beneath the breeze moving through the garden.
"When I was little..."
I stopped.
The memories rose too quickly.
Too clearly.
Remedy waited.
Never filling the silence.
Never rescuing me from it.
I appreciated that more than I could explain.
"I used to imagine there was another place."
I looked out across the gardens.
"Somewhere children laughed like this every day."
Charlie squealed as Steel dramatically pretended one of the sprinklers had attacked him.
Nathan laughed.
A real laugh.
Clear.
Free.
I smiled without meaning to.
"I didn't know places like this actually existed."
Remedy followed my gaze.
"Neither did most of us."
I looked at him.
He rested one forearm against the wooden fence surrounding the garden.
"The clubhouse wasn't always like this."
"No?"
He smiled faintly.
"No."
"What changed?"
He thought for a moment.
"The women."
I blinked.
"The women?"
He nodded.
"Lark."
"Daisy."
"Autumn."
"Lilith."
"Rain."
He smiled as more names came to him.
"They reminded us that surviving wasn't the same thing as living."
The words settled gently between us.
"We knew how to fight."
His eyes drifted toward Charlie.
"We didn't know how to build a home."
I watched Daisy kneel beside one of the younger girls, helping her carefully plant herbs near the walkway.
Lark laughed at something Toxic whispered while he carried another tray of seedlings toward the greenhouse.
Harbor House residents worked beside patched members of the Flaming Skulls as though no line separated them anymore.
Maybe...
There wasn't one.
"It shows."
He looked back at me.
"What does?"
"That you built it together."
His smile held quiet gratitude.
"We're still building."
Charlie's voice echoed across the garden again.
"My Sunshine!"
I turned.
She came running toward us with Mr. Pickles tucked beneath one arm and something clutched tightly in the other hand.
"I found something."
"What is it?"
She opened her tiny fist.
Inside rested a smooth white feather.
I smiled.
"It's beautiful."
She nodded enthusiastically.
"It fell down."
"It did."
She carefully placed it into my hand.
"You keep it."
"I couldn't."
"I want you to."
I looked down at the feather.
"It's lucky."
"Is it?"
Charlie nodded with complete certainty.
"Daddy says feathers mean birds were here."
Remedy chuckled.
"I may have simplified that explanation."
Charlie ignored him.
"My mommy used to keep pretty feathers."
The words landed softly.
Not painfully.
Simply honestly.
Remedy's smile grew quieter.
"She did."
Charlie looked up at me.
"So now you have one."
I closed my fingers gently around the feather.
"Thank you."
She smiled.
"You can remember today."
Something tightened unexpectedly inside my chest.
Remember today.
There had been years when remembering felt dangerous.
Years when I desperately wanted to forget.
The children.
Their voices.
Their birthdays.
Their favorite bedtime stories.
The promises I'd whispered after lights-out.
"I'll always find you."
I hadn't stopped trying.
Not for a single day.
But some nights...
I wondered whether they'd stopped believing.
My fingers unconsciously tightened around the feather.
Remedy noticed.
Of course he did.
He noticed everything.
He didn't ask why.
Instead, he quietly reached down and picked another feather from the grass near the path.
Slightly larger.
Gray around the edges.
He handed it to Charlie.
"I think Mr. Pickles deserves one too."
Charlie's entire face lit up.
"He does!"
She carefully tucked the feather beneath one of Mr. Pickles' floppy arms.
"Now he remembers today too."
Remedy looked toward me.
Neither of us smiled broadly.
Neither of us needed to.
Some moments weren't meant to be interrupted by too many words.
Sometimes kindness looked like understanding someone needed to hold onto a memory...
Without asking what it reminded them of.
The church bell in town rang softly in the distance.
Eleven o'clock.
Daisy looked toward the garden.
"Alright, everybody!"
She clapped her hands together.
"Let's get these vegetables inside before lunch."
The children groaned dramatically.
Charlie looked at me.
"Work again."
I laughed.
"I guess so."
She slipped one tiny hand into mine while taking her father's with the other.
Exactly as she always seemed to do.
"There."
Remedy looked down.
"There what?"
"We're all together."
The words were so simple.
So matter-of-fact.
She wasn't making a wish.
She wasn't pretending.
In Charlie's heart...
It was already true.
As the three of us started walking back toward Harbor House beneath the warm Carolina sun, I found myself looking down at our joined hands.
At the tiny fingers connecting us.
At the white feather still resting safely in my pocket.
For the first time in years...
The memories of the children I had lost didn't feel quite so lonely.
Because somewhere between pancakes...
Gardens...
Dragons...
And one little girl with an enormous heart...
Hope had quietly begun finding me again.