Mail Order Mom

I inhaled deeply.

“Well...” I knew what answer the little girl expected, but I detested lying to her. Even if it would be a white lie. “I’m sure she did,” I started hesitantly. “In her own way, my mother probably loved Mara and me. Sadly, she didn’t spend enough time with us for me to feel her love.”

Ene tilted her head to the side, tugging at the pigtail over her right ear. “Did she work a lot, like my dad?”

“No. She didn’t work, but she did a lot of other things outside of home.”

“Like what?”

“Social things, like parties, galas, dinners, fundraisers...”

“What are those?” She squinted at me, wrinkling her nose in an adorable way.

“They are different forms of gatherings that some people think are important. And maybe they are...” I sensed she was waiting for me to say something positive. I desperately wanted to make her feel better. Sadly, there wasn’t much positive I could offer from my relationship with my mother. “I liked helping her with those parties. As soon as I was old enough to be useful, I would tag along and do whatever she told me to do.” That was my way to ensure my mother and I spent some time together. “I learned a lot. I can throw a kickass fundraiser in a flash if needed.”

My upbeat voice made her smile, which was the point. Sadly, the smile was short-lived.

“My mother also bought me a lot of purple clothes,” I said, not sure why.

“Purple? Do you like this color?”

“Not really. But it helped Mother to tell Mara and me apart, because she dressed Mara in pink.”

“Your mom needed different color clothes to tell you apart?”

“Yeah...” That didn’t sound very uplifting. I scrambled for something better to say. “But you know what, some of the nannies we had could tell us apart with no problems at all, regardless of what we wore.”

“They could?”

“Yes. One nanny we had stayed with us for almost six years. Marissa.” I smiled, remembering Marissa’s warm hugs that always smelled like vanilla because of the body spray she used and the baking she loved to do. “She was kind and told the best goodnight stories. She always knew who was who, even when Mara and I tried to trick her on purpose.”

Ene shifted a little closer. “Where is she now?”

“Well, Marissa was pretty old when she worked for us. She’s long dead now.”

“Oh.” Ene’s expression fell again.

Obviously, my cheering-up technique sucked.

I rubbed my forehead. “My point is that you don’t really need to be related to people to feel close to them. Your family is kind of like a starter kit you get at birth. But it doesn’t mean you can’t adjust and add to it as you go. You meet all kinds of people out there. Some of them you may like more than anyone ever before. What I’m saying is... You can make your own family, Ene.”

“So...” She appeared to be pondering my words. “Are you saying Marissa was your family?”

“Yes, I felt as close to her as a family would. Anyone you like can be your friend. Then, your best friends can be your closest family.”

She bit her lip, staring at the grass for a moment. To my alarm, tears swelled in her light-gray eyes again.

“But what if they don’t want to be my friends?”

Her voice came out shaky, and I forgot all about keeping the respectful distance. I plopped on the ground right next to her.

“Then they weren’t meant to be your friends at all. Why waste time and energy on them? You know how many people are out there? Billions! You can’t be friends with everyone. And you don’t have to. It’s the very few that matter. Choose your ‘few’ carefully.”

She fell quiet, twisting a blade of grass between her fingers. Her pigtails swayed with a deep breath.

Sadness lingered in this desolate garden-room like a funeral shroud. Even the bright sky above didn’t brighten it. I wished I could get her out of here, somehow.

“Hey, do you know what we can do?” I yanked my hair elastic off my ponytail. “I can show you all the fun and crazy ways in which women on Earth style their hair. Want to see that?”

“No. Don’t touch my hair.” She sulked again, shrinking back. “I want it to look like horns. Like Daddy’s. I want to be as strong as he is, so I can punch everyone in their face when they laugh at me.”

My optimism waned, and I struggled to regain some positivity.

“Well, your dad may be strong, but it doesn’t mean he goes around punching people in their faces, does he?”

She nodded. “He punched Uncle Uttek at our birthday party two years ago.”

“He did?” My jaw dropped. “Why?”

“Because Uncle Uttek agreed with Grandma when she said if it wasn’t for Dad, Mom would still be alive. I guess Dad didn’t want to punch Grandma, so he punched Uncle Uttek instead.”

A lovely birthday party that must have been.

I feared I’d opened a can of worms that I really didn’t want to sort through right now, especially with a kid.

“Okay, well... Let’s braid my hair. I won’t touch yours if you don’t want me to. Come.” I got up to my feet, eager to get out of this spooky place. “I’ll show you all the hair care stuff I’ve brought from Earth. We can raid Mara’s luggage too. I’m sure she has lots in all those bags that got delivered from the spaceport today.”

Ene got up to follow me, and I released a long breath of relief. I honestly had no idea what I would’ve done had she said no again.