Whispered Prayers of a Girl

He reaches out and pats one of her hands, saying with a serious tone, “Yours is still good, Mom.” He uses his pointer finger and thumb and puts them so close they’re almost touching. “But I

like his a tiny bit more.”

Gwen laughs, and before I realize it, I’m chuckling with her. She looks over at me when I do, and I use the excuse of grabbing my phone from my coat pocket so I don’t see the expression on her face. Her shock is apparent, which doesn’t really surprise me. I know I put off a serious vibe, maybe even an asshole one at times. Even to my own ears, the laugh sounds weird coming from me.

“Would you mind making more of your delicious hot chocolate?” she asks, unable to hide her uncertainty.

I push away the strange feelings she’s provoking in me and turn to face her.

“Yeah. I can do that.”

My voice sounds rough, so I clear my throat before making my way to the kitchen. Daniel’s already on the floor again with the puppies. I’m surprised but pleased to see Gigi up on the couch, her head only inches away from Kelsey. She’s trying her best to ignore the dog, but her head keeps tilting toward her. Maybe Gigi can be of help with unleashing some of the pain Kelsey harbors.

I gather the necessary ingredients and set to making hot chocolate. It’s a recipe my mom used when I was a kid. My mom was never the type to buy already prepared food. She made everything from scratch. She also made sure her kids knew how to cook.

Gwen steps up beside me as I heat the milk in a saucepan.

“Thank you for taking him with you. He doesn’t get the chance very often to spend time with a man and he needs that.”

I look at her out the corner of my eye, and see her running her finger over a scratch on the counter surface.

“It was no problem. He’s a good kid.”

She nods. “He is. I hate knowing he’s not getting the experiences and advice he needs from his dad.”

Her voice trails off, and I glance over at her. She’s looking at the wall ahead of her. There’s nothing there, so I know she’s in her own head, probably remembering something about her husband, or maybe silently wishing he was still here. It’s already painful that she lost her husband, but having to raise two kids on her own, knowing they’ll never see their dad again…. I can’t imagine the pain.

“Seems like he’s doing okay to me,” I say, attempting to make her feel better. I don’t like knowing she’s in pain, which is strange for me, because it’s been a long time since I’ve really cared about how someone else feels.

“Thanks,” she says.

She grabs some mugs from the cabinet as I remove the pan from the burner and set it on a cool one. She watches as I finish making the hot chocolate. Neither of us say anything. Normally the silence would be uncomfortable, but right now, it’s not. I like having her by me. It doesn’t feel like she’s invading my space, just that she’s sharing it with me.

A wave of vanilla hits my nose. It’s subtle, but sweet. A strange feeling, one I haven’t felt in a long time, has my stomach dipping. I frown, not entirely sure I like the new feeling. It’s leaving me off-kilter. I don’t like not being in control.

Daniel, as expected, bounds up to the bar, Kelsey walking placidly behind him. It hurts something deep inside me every time I look at her and see the unhidden anguish in her eyes. I feel for this girl because I go through the same pain every day.

The kids sit at the bar and enjoy their hot drinks while Gwen and I stand by and watch. Daniel chatters nonstop about the horses he saw. The pure joy on his face as he talks animatedly makes my heart hurt a little less.

My eyes stray to Gwen every few seconds, watching, but hoping she doesn’t catch me. She’s looking at her son with a smile on her face, genuinely enjoying his energetic rambling. When Daniel mentions coming back once the weather is warmer so he can ride a horse, her eyes stray to me for a moment before going back to him. “We’ll see.”

Deep down inside a place that’s been dormant for years, I hope she does decide to come back. I want to be around these people more. They distract me from my own pain. Not that I’m glad they carry pain, but it reminds me that I’m not alone in the world. There are others out there suffering just as much. In less than two days, this small family has helped quiet the screams in my head, something no one has been able to do. Of course, that might be because I haven’t let anyone close enough to really try. My family has been there for me, but they suffer from their own grief.

My eyes travel to Kelsey to find her looking at me. Her eyes look so sad, and when she notices I’ve caught her stare, she looks away. It knocks me in the chest every time I look at her. I want to take away her pain. A child her age should never look the way she does, like her life is over.

Once the kids are done with their hot chocolate, Gwen tells Daniel it’s time to shower. He ambles off, while Kelsey goes back to the living room where her notebook is on the couch. Gwen goes to the laundry room to fold the few pieces of clothes she washed. She offered to wash mine earlier along with hers, but I declined. I know she’s only trying to help because her and her kids are staying here a few days, but I’ve told her several times, there’s no need. She insists on cooking though. I didn’t argue. I may know how to cook but it’s been a long time since I’ve had someone do it for me. And as much as I thought it would freak me out having another woman here doing something such as cooking, it hasn’t. That doesn’t mean it won’t later. I keep waiting for the nerves to hit, but so far, they haven’t.

I leave the kitchen and go to the living room. Kelsey’s on one end of the couch, drawing pad in her lap, so I take the other end. I grab the remote from the coffee table and switch the TV on, but keep the volume low. I can feel her eyes on me, but I keep my head forward. We stay like this for a while, me seemingly ignoring her, and her looking at me out the corner of her eye every so often.

Keeping my eyes on the TV, I ask, “Do you like cartoons?”

I’m met with silence, which doesn’t surprise me. However, she does turn her head my way. I turn to face her as well. Her eyes are still blank, but underneath the emptiness, I see something lurking. Something that tells me she wants to let go so badly and be part of the world again, but is afraid to.

“What are you drawing?” I ask, then look down at the drawing pad. Her hand is covering part of the paper, so I can’t see it all, but it looks to be a dream catcher.

She follows my eyes down to the pad, looks back at me, then surprises me by handing it over. Her eyes hold uncertainty as I grab the pad and hold it up to take a look. I was right, it’s a dream catcher, but this one’s unique. It has the usual webbing in the middle where the dreams are said to fly through, and the feathers falling from the bottom, but there’s also an added feature. Dripping from the webbing and falling alongside the feathers are drops of some kind of liquid. Most would probably think raindrops, but my bet is on tears. The picture is stunningly beautiful but also very devastating. It shows her pain.

“This is beautiful,” I say, and hand it back to her.