Chapter 9
Remedy
There were certain things you could count on every morning.
Charlie would wake before her alarm.
Steel would steal breakfast before Daisy finished cooking it.
Mace would insist something mechanical could be repaired with enough determination and a bigger wrench.
And Sunshine...
Sunshine would already be at Harbor House before most people poured their first cup of coffee.
I hadn't realized I'd started looking for her until Bishop quietly pointed it out.
"You missed her."
I looked up from the medical charts spread across my desk.
"What?"
He leaned against the office doorway, arms folded comfortably across his chest.
"You looked toward the garden."
"So?"
"You've looked three times."
"I was checking on the vegetables."
Bishop smiled.
"Were you?"
"I planted those tomatoes."
"Mhm."
"And?"
"I've never seen you inspect tomatoes through the children's playground."
I glanced toward the window.
Sure enough...
The garden wasn't even visible from where I'd been looking.
I sighed.
"I walked into that one."
"You sprinted."
He laughed softly before setting a donation inventory sheet onto my desk.
"I'm not giving you a hard time."
"I know."
He studied me for a moment.
"You're happier."
The simple observation caught me off guard.
"I've always been happy."
Bishop tilted his head.
"No."
"You've always been grateful."
His smile remained gentle.
"Those aren't the same thing."
Before I could answer, Charlie came barreling into the office carrying three dandelions and one slightly wilted daisy.
"Daddy!"
I caught her automatically as she climbed into my lap.
"What've you got?"
"Flowers."
"I can see that."
"One's for you."
She carefully tucked the dandelion into my shirt pocket.
"One's for Daisy."
She handed me another.
"And..."
She held up the last flower with complete satisfaction.
"...this one's for My Sunshine."
Bishop smiled into his coffee.
"I wondered how long it'd take."
I looked at him.
"Take for what?"
He nodded toward Charlie.
"She stopped calling her Sunshine."
"I noticed."
"Kids don't usually add 'my' unless they've decided something."
I looked down at Charlie.
"What made you call her that?"
Charlie shrugged as though it were the easiest question in the world.
"'Cause she's ours."
The room grew unexpectedly quiet.
Not because the words were romantic.
Because they weren't.
To Charlie...
There was no difference between family and belonging.
She simply collected people she loved and placed them together.
I kissed the top of her head.
"I think she'd like the flower."
"I know."
About an hour later, I found Sunshine exactly where I should have expected her to be.
She wasn't catching up on paperwork or taking a few quiet minutes for herself.
Instead, she sat cross-legged beneath the old oak tree with six children gathered in a loose circle around her, a picture book resting open across her lap.
Every child watched her with complete attention, hanging on each word as though the story unfolding in her hands was the most important thing in the world.
Watching them together, I couldn't help thinking that Sunshine had a remarkable gift for making people feel as though they were the only person in the room.
"...and then the little bear looked up at the stars..."
Every child leaned forward, including Nathan who usually preferred sitting quietly at the edge of every group.
Charlie's head rested comfortably against Sunshine's shoulder while Mr. Pickles occupied a place of honor beside the book.
I remained where I was, watching from several yards away and listening less to the story than to the children gathered around her.
Emily responded to every page with exaggerated gasps, Nathan quietly guessed what would happen next, Lily smiled more than I had seen since she'd arrived, and Charlie interrupted often enough to establish beyond any reasonable doubt that bears probably enjoyed pancakes as much as dragons did.
Sunshine never hurried them through the interruptions or treated their questions as distractions.
She answered each one with the same thoughtful patience, making every child feel as though their voice mattered.
Watching her, I realized that wasn't just how she read stories. It was how she moved through the world.
"You can go over there."
Daisy's voice beside me broke my concentration.
"I know."
She smiled knowingly.
"Then why're you standing all the way back here?"
"I don't want to interrupt."
"You wouldn't."
I looked toward the little circle beneath the tree.
"They're having a moment."
Daisy folded her arms.
"So are you."
I frowned.
"What does that mean?"
She looked toward Sunshine.
"It means..."
Her smile softened.
"...you're watching someone become part of your family."
The words lingered long after Daisy walked away.
The story finally ended beneath a chorus of enthusiastic applause.
Charlie immediately looked up.
"Again."
Nathan nodded.
"Again."
Emily held up another book.
"This one."
Sunshine laughed.
"I think we're going to be here awhile."
The children cheered.
Only then did Charlie notice me.
"Daddy!"
She jumped to her feet.
"You came."
"I did."
She grabbed my hand and immediately started pulling.
"Come sit."
"I don't want to interrupt."
"You won't."
Apparently, she'd inherited that certainty from somewhere.
Before I could protest again, she'd already pulled me into the circle.
Sunshine smiled warmly.
"We were just finishing."
Charlie looked horrified.
"No."
"We're starting another."
The children agreed unanimously.
I settled onto the blanket beside Charlie.
Somewhere along the way, Sunshine shifted just enough to make room without either of us mentioning it.
We stood quietly beside one another, close enough that our shoulders nearly brushed whenever one of us shifted our weight.
It wasn't enough to touch, yet I found myself unexpectedly aware of how naturally she seemed to fit beside me.
Before the silence had a chance to become awkward, Charlie wandered over and climbed into Sunshine's lap with the unquestioning confidence only a child could possess.
Sunshine looked up at me, smiling as she wrapped an arm around Charlie's shoulders, and I couldn't help thinking how effortlessly the two of them had become part of each other's world.
"Daddy."
"Hm?"
"You read this one."
She handed me the book.
I looked at the cover.
The Little Red Hen.
"I don't know if I can compete with Sunshine."
Charlie looked thoughtfully between us.
"You don't have to."
"No?"
She shook her head.
"You can read together."
The suggestion was so innocent that every adult within earshot suddenly became very interested in whatever they happened to be doing.
Steel bent over a flowerbed that clearly didn't need his attention.
Mace inspected a rake.
Bishop looked toward the sky with suspicious fascination.
I caught Sunshine trying not to laugh.
"So..."
She looked at the book.
"...would you like to read together?"
I smiled.
"I'd like that."
Charlie sighed happily.
"I knew you would."
She settled comfortably against Sunshine's shoulder.
I opened the first page.
Without thinking...
Sunshine leaned slightly closer so both of us could see the illustrations.
Our shoulders brushed for the briefest moment, and neither of us moved away or acknowledged it.
The contact was so slight it could easily have gone unnoticed, yet somehow it lingered in my awareness long after it had passed.
Charlie nestled a little deeper against Sunshine's side with Mr. Pickles tucked securely beneath one arm before closing her eyes for a second, the contented smile on her face soft enough to make the entire afternoon seem quieter.
Looking at her, it struck me that children never complicated belonging the way adults did.
When they felt safe, they simply leaned into it without question.
Charlie opened her eyes again and looked at me expectantly.
"You gotta do the voices."
I smiled.
"I do?"
She nodded emphatically.
"Books are better with voices."
Nathan looked up from the blanket.
"I like the old farmer voice."
Emily raised one finger.
"I like the chicken."
Lily looked down shyly before speaking.
"I like... all of them."
Sunshine laughed softly beside me.
"I think you've got your work cut out for you."
"I can see that."
I opened the book again.
"Alright."
I cleared my throat dramatically.
"'Once upon a time there was a little red hen...'"
Charlie immediately interrupted.
"That's not the voice."
I looked down at her.
"It isn't?"
She shook her head.
"No."
"More chicken."
The children burst into laughter.
"I've never been asked to sound more like poultry before."
Sunshine covered a laugh with one hand.
"I'll admit..."
Her eyes sparkled with amusement.
"...I'm curious."
I sighed dramatically.
"I can't believe I'm about to embarrass myself in front of an entire audience."
Charlie patted my arm.
"It's okay."
"You'll get better."
That earned another round of giggles.
Taking a deep breath, I tried again.
This time my version of the little red hen sounded enthusiastic enough that Emily clapped her hands together.
"There!"
Nathan nodded.
"That's better."
Lily smiled.
Charlie looked immensely pleased.
"I fixed it."
"You certainly did."
The story continued with constant interruptions.
Not frustrating interruptions.
The kind that reminded you children weren't simply listening.
They were living inside every page.
"Why didn't the dog help?"
Emily asked.
"Maybe he was tired."
Nathan shook his head.
"He was lazy."
Charlie frowned.
"That's not nice."
Sunshine smiled at her.
"What do you think he should've done?"
Charlie answered without hesitation.
"Help."
"Why?"
"'Cause..."
She looked around the blanket at every child sitting beside her.
"...everybody helps."